


Gourmet Rhapsody

by hazelandglasz



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort, Comfort Food, Depression, Domestic, Domestic Disputes, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Food, Food Porn, Food as a Metaphor for Love, M/M, Recipes, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 08:58:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1299115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt has been working as a designer in a high-end fashion house but he just reaches his emotional limit.<br/>He goes through a burnout and during the time he has been given to recover, he goes back to what has always been his way to cope with stress : cooking and more particularly baking.<br/>It acts as an epiphany : why does he keep on working for someone else who doesn’t really let him make the right decisions and put too much pressure on him, if he can try being his own boss ?<br/>With Blaine’s support and Adam’s collaboration, he opens “Nibble on”, a bakery that cares about feeding you, body and soul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oeuf cocotte aux asperges

**Author's Note:**

> I wouldn’t have been able to do this without the consent of the fantastic genius cook behind all the recipes, Yael from Gourmandise & Co. who let me play with them for the sake of the story. All the recipes are on her blog, go go go !  
> The help my beta Cat (blouecloudsupabove) provided has been quintessential to this story, its development and in my writing itself !  
> A big thank you to my artist, Laura (lallagogo) who brought all of them to life and made me cry with her accuracy (and her feedback on the story)  
> Finally, the support my friends have given me through all of the process is without compare :3
> 
> This fic contains a lot of recipes and a lot of cooking techniques, but it’s all to make you hungry! And, hopefully, happy ;)

* * *

 

**_March - April_ **

“Honey, I’m home!”

Kurt looks up from the cutting board in front of him to look at Blaine as he takes his coat off, shaking his head at his husband’s antics. Blaine doesn’t waste any time into coming behind him to kiss the nape of his neck and wrap his arms around his waist in that way that the both of them like so much.

That hug lets Kurt free in his movements and yet gives him a sense of peace and completion that feels even better than the meal he’s preparing.

Daily life takes its toll on Kurt, there’s no point in denying it : he loves his job, he truly does, but the responsibilities on his shoulders feel heavier on some days - like today - and he finds comfort in the support his partner gives him without a moment of hesitation and in one other thing.

Cooking is the one coping technique that always allows Kurt to let go of that amount of stress that is just too much. Sure, he’s not a chef, sure he doesn’t have any training, but by God, he knows how to cook comfort food and bake little things to nibble on without needing the actual recipes. He learned them a long time ago, after all.

Elizabeth Hummel was no Julia Child, but even the simplest of meals always tasted of the love she felt for the two men of her life, and Kurt applies that principle to all of the things he cooks and bakes for Blaine, for their friends, for his dad - for anyone lucky enough to be deemed worthy of his cooking, really.

He can taste it in the cookies Blaine bakes twice a year too - Blaine is definitely more of a baker, needing the precision it requires, but Kurt is not too bad on that side; he just prefers the liberty of cooking by letting his guts tell him that he needs to add more salt and that tarragon would work beautifully with asparagi.

Speaking of which, Kurt wiggles to signal to Blaine that he needs more space.

It wouldn’t do any of them good if he accidentally dropped boiling water on one of them, would it ?

Blaine takes a step back and observes the counter. His eyes sparkle and he actually lets out a little whooping sound of appreciation when he spots the two cast iron casseroles waiting on the side.

“Aw, you’re making us oeufs cocottes ?” he asks with a beaming smile and Kurt, keeping his eyes on the pan in his hand to make sure he has drained all of the water, nods in reply.

“Do you want me to prepare the bread fingers ?” Blaine offers, and as he puts the pan back on the stove,

Kurt turns to smile at him.“Yes please, dear,” he replies with an exaggerated flutter of his eyelashes.

Blaine goes to the freezer while Kurt pours the cream in the pan, pulling a loaf of pre-sliced whole wheat bread out of it.

“Are we hungry tonight ?” Blaine mumbles and Kurt lets out a very undignified snort.

“I don’t know for you, your Majesty, but _we_ are pretty hungry,” he replies, slicing up the tarragon before putting it in the pan too.

Blaine chuckles and takes 6 slices of bread before wrapping it and putting it back in the freezer.

They both work in silence - the comfort of it only ruined for a couple of seconds when Kurt whips out the plunging mixer - and when Kurt closes the oven door on the eggs, Blaine puts his knife down.

Knowing that they have to wait at least fifteen minutes for their dinner to be ready, Blaine takes out a bottle of Alsatian white wine that he found during his last shopping spree at the French grocery store that just opened across his office building.

“Want to talk about it ?” he asks while he pours two generous glasses for them and setting them on the table.

If there is one thing that Blaine has learned about Kurt in all the years they spent together, it’s that he cooks when he needs to get something out of his system. He takes comfort in it, knowing that he can read the non-verbal signs Kurt gives him, but that doesn’t change the fact that his husband needs to actually talk about what is stressing him out.

Kurt pulls out a chair with a sigh and plays with the glass stem.“You know what this is about,” he finally says softly, looking at Blaine over the rim of the glass.

“The Spring collection ?” Blaine replies, his voice tilting into a question : even though he knows Kurt’s planning, better be safe than sorry.

Kurt nods, taking a sip of the refreshing wine and letting the alcohol slightly burn his throat before replying. “There is that, and Felix wants me to collaborate with him on the children’s collection as well, and François has a problem with the customs for the special brocart we ordered from Saint-Maur like, three months ago and …”

Blaine cuts him off by covering his hand with his own, and that’s only then that Kurt realizes he had been tapping his fingers against the wood of the table.

“Have you tried telling Felix that your plate is already full ?” Blaine asks softly and Kurt shoots him a half-hearted glare; of course he did, but there is no reasoning with the Creative director of the Couture house Kurt joined less than three years ago. “Have you met him ?” he asks with a shake of his head.

Blaine did meet him and he instantly disliked him - too much like a strange blend of Cooper and Sebastian’s worst characteristics for his tastes.

The fact that he seems to look at Kurt like he’s simultaneously his nemesis and a fucking prize to be taken off Blaine’s hands contributes greatly to his distaste.

“Of course I did,” Kurt finally replies before standing up to check on their eggs - a couple of minutes more might do them some good - and leaning against the counter, letting the warm air from the oven tickle the back of his legs. “But the man is adamant that he can’t do it by himself, and, well,” Kurt says with a self-deprecating laugh, “I couldn’t resist to rub it in his face …”

“Understandable,” Blaine says calmly before standing up to finish whipping the butter with the truffle extract for their bread fingers. “But don’t you think he might have done it on purpose?”

Looking sideways, he can see Kurt frowning in confusion and he explains, gesturing with his butter knife in hand, “pretend to need your help to burden you with more work while he’ll get the praise for it ?”

Kurt’s jaw drops and he looks around like he can’t believe what Blaine has just said before snapping it shut. “I didn’t think about that,” he admits sheepishly, tapping his glass against his cheek.

Blaine presents him with one slice of generously buttered bread and kisses his cheek. “Maybe it’s just me being paranoid, honey,” he says softly before nudging Kurt out of the way to take the casseroles out of the oven. “But I can see that you’re stretching yourself too thin as it is,” he adds with a tilt of his head toward Kurt.

They sit back at the table, the plates with the slices of bread between them; they both let out a content sigh when they open the casseroles and the smell of cooked eggs and asparagus fills the kitchen.

Kurt pays attention to the way Blaine eats. It’s a never-ending source of joy, watching his husband twirling a spoon in his hand before digging into the dish, the sparkle in his eyes as the yolk opens perfectly and covers the green asparagus flavored cream in its gooey goodness.

Blaine even wiggles in his seat, and Kurt has to cover his mouth to keep the giggles at bay. His smile widens, though, when Blaine holds the spoon to Kurt and offers him the first taste - it’s ridiculous, really, how warm he feels all of a sudden : they have the same meal in front of them ; getting the first spoonful of Blaine’s casserole shouldn’t make him so giddy and yet, it definitely does.

The thing is, Kurt knows all about Blaine’s love for food - that one would be hard to miss - and also for French philosophers and writers waxing poetry about the small pleasures of life such as the first swallow of a long-awaited -- thing. To see that in spite of all of those things he loves, Blaine obviously loves him more, is ready to bygone this particular pleasure to make him happy, to contribute into soothing Kurt’s troubled mind - it only serves to make him fall in love all over again, and he delicately takes the offered spoon in his mouth.

The fresh taste of the asparagus and the slightly liquorice-y taste of the tarragon explode in his mouth, immediately followed by the velvety sensation of the cream and the egg. Kurt is not done swallowing, but he takes a quick bite out of one bread finger. The toasted bread cracks under his teeth, and the richness of the butter overwhelms his tastebuds for a moment - there is nothing better in this world than almost melted butter - before the tanginess of the truffle blends with the asparagus and Kurt lets out a moan.

Blaine bows his head to smile and blush - he thinks that he’ll still be blushing and smiling at Kurt’s adorable and sexy reactions years in the future when they’re in a retiring home together - before digging into the casserole, bypassing the spoon to use a piece of bread.

He doesn’t have Kurt’s patience to layer the tastes - Blaine prefers to get all of them at the same time, all the different components exploding in his mouth bite after bite.

“It’s really fantashtic, Kurt,” he says with his mouth half-full with food and Kurt scrunches his nose, lips wrapped around the spoon.

“Classy, Devon,” he replies with a giggle and Blaine looks at him like a chipmunk storing food for the winter and a frown on his face.

Nothing riles Blaine up quicker than the use of his middle name, and his husband uses it against him far too frequently for his taste.Blaine swallows and lets out a sigh - the first bite is gone, and as Philippe Delerme would say, the rest of the dish is nice, fantastic even, but it will never compare to that first taste.

Kurt takes small spoonful of the casserole between small bites of the bread fingers and Blaine leans his head on his closed fist to look at him.

“Feeling better ?” he asks and Kurt keeps his eyes on the casserole, but he smiles and Blaine can see that.

“It was nothing, really,” he says softly, and Blaine opens his mouth to protest but Kurt is faster. “Nothing that a good meal, a good wine and an even greater company couldn’t take care of - serotonin makes me invincible,” he adds as he holds an asparagus in his spoon like a trophy, and Blaine gives him a crooked smile.

He hopes Kurt is right and that his worries were not that important - but Blaine vows to be more careful.

******

Oeuf cocotte aux asperges – Eggs and asparagus in casseroles

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/647541844>

**For 2 portions (for the chef and his cutie)**

2 eggs

1 pack of green asparagus

25 cl of liquid cream

Tarragon

Salt, pepper, nutmeg, olive oil

 

Clean the asparagus and cut them in 3 or 4 pieces - put the heads on the side.

Cook the asparagus pieces in boiling water. Drain the water and pour the cream in your cooking pan, and add the tarragon, salt, pepper and nutmeg.

Leave it to cook completely and mix it to obtain your asparagus cream.

Preheat the oven at 356°F.

Put the asparagus heads in a pan with some olive oil but keep them green and crunchy.

In each casserole, place 4 tablespoons of the asparagus cream and crack the egg. Add salt and pepper before delicately (without breaking the yolk) placing the asparagus heads in the mix.

Take a oven-resistant dish, pour some warm water and put your cocottes in it.

Leave it to cook for 15 to 18 minutes, so that the whites are cooked but the yolks are still gooey and melting.

Serve with breadfingers - lightly buttered or not, but definitely toasted !

Bon appétit !

Side note : The wine that goes perfectly with it would be a Pinot blanc d’Alsace


	2. Cupcakes After Eight

**_July - August_ **

As it turns out, Blaine is not the only one carefully watching over Kurt.

Rachel and Santana are around, forcing him to take a break for lunch or even for a small cup of coffee, but it’s really Adam and, surprisingly, Sebastian who are the most helpful.

 

After NYADA, Adam Crawford got casted in a couple of musicals, but he quickly found out that he preferred to be in the shadows, in the background of the whole thing rather than actually on stage.

And even when he _was_ on stage, he’d rather hang out with the techies and the caterers than with the other members of the cast who seemed to want him dead or at least severely injured.

After a couple of encounters that left Adam a little bit more of a misanthrope - to his great displeasure - and a little bit less enthused by the field he had been training in for years, Adam decided to change his plans. Talking about it with Kurt over a plate of cookies and tea had helped, and Blaine had not stayed away from the discussion.

“Those are actually excellent,” he had said as he munched on a cookie like a squirrel and Kurt had looked up from his mug of tea to stare at the plate of cookies before turning his gaze on Adam.

“That’s it !” he had exclaimed, “you should try joining the caterers’ team !”

Adam looked at him with a frown.

“You think they would hire someone who has zero experience in-in catering, or in cooking ?” he said, more morosely than he wanted to hear his own voice and Kurt shook his head.

“You always tell us that the caterers at the theater practically adopted you - bring them those cookies tomorrow, and talk with them !”

“You do know that we don’t live in a Disney movie, right, love ?” he had asked with a chuckle, and Blaine giggled.

Any amount of awkwardness between them was long gone the moment the two men bonded over the very fine assets of one Colin Firth, and by now, Blaine is used to Adam calling everybody, including his own husband, pet names that surprise most people.

Adam’s boyfriend, on the other hand, does not appreciate them and it makes him extra clingy.

Not that Adam is complaining, he loves having a lap full of lanky, clingy, territorial man who likes to nuzzle his cheek or his neck while glowering at the person Adam just spoke to with too much affection.

Speaking of the devil, Sebastian leaned over the table to pull the plate of cookies closer to him, in a very territorial gesture, before leaning his head against his closed fist to look at Kurt pensively. “You know, Princess,” he mused, “you may be onto something.”

Kurt looked at him with a crooked smirk. “Stop the press, people !” he exclaimed dramatically,

“Sebastian Smythe is agreeing with me !”

Blaine and Adam chuckled and Sebastian pretended to be hurt - the hurtful and venomous feelings between the two men were buried under years of proofs that they really could be there for each other in the middle of any shitstorm Life threw at them.

“You can try, schmoops,” Sebastian added, turning to Adam with his green eyes sparkling like they always did while looking at him, “what do you have to lose ?”

Indeed what did he have to lose ? He was halfway out of the doors anyway.

Two days later, armed with cookies, his determination, and his best smile, Adam went to talk to Annaïs, the lady in charge of the catering in the theater.

The other two chefs working under her supervision stayed for the talk, giving their input and asking questions that didn’t make sense at the time - in retrospect, Adam can see why they asked if he minded working late or if he had had back problems in his youth. When the petite blonde woman stood up and shook his hand, six hours later, the cookies were long gone and Adam had a new job.

 

Now, it’s been three years that Adam turned his back on the acting part of the theater world and he never regretted it. Sure, the hours are long and the job itself is exhausting - far more tiring than rehearsing a scene until he dreamt or had nightmares about it, than going through each and every move over and over again, than practicing a song until his throat felt raw - but mentally, all of it never was more rewarding than what he does each and every day.

Adam feels like every bulging cheek on the people eating his food’s faces is a medal, every moan of pleasure, a nomination, and each and every person coming back for seconds, a Tony award.

Annaïs’ business was soaring, people talking about the quality of the food and the friendliness of the staff when the older woman decided to retire and go back to France, leaving it in Adam’s stunned but capable hands. And when Kurt ordered a full buffet for a cocktail - slash - collection opening, Adam knew that it was as far from nepotism as humanly possible.

He worked his ass off on that order, barely being at home and barely seeing Sebastian, but it’s all worth it: he made important connections that night, the kind that have assured him commands and clients to this day. The business might still be in Annaïs’ name, but the logo is a big “A” so it’s almost like it’s his.

Now, it looks like it’s his turn to help his friend, if the worry that crosses Blaine’s eyes when Kurt’s name is mentioned is anything to go by.

When Kurt comes for their weekly Downton Abbey / cupcakes marathon, Adam makes sure Kurt’s favorite ones are ready.

Adam pulls the essential oil of peppermint he made himself in the beginning of the summer out of the cupboard and smiles at the memory - Sebastian has spent the entire month sniffing him, his hands and hair in particular, because of the persisting smell sticking to him no matter how many times Adam showered; that’s when Adam had understood that Sebastian had a special affection for the astringent odor of Mint and he has never stopped using it around the house, sprinkling some of the oil on his quilt in the living room, if only to catch his boyfriend rolling in it like a puppy when he thought nobody was watching.

Adam shakes his head to stop thinking about his crumpet: he definitely doesn’t need to think about him - _tall and strong and freckled and all flexible limbs and ravenous kisses, Goodness_ \- while he’s baking, particularly when he’s measuring the essential oil.

That thing is absolutely delicious, but too much of it can ruin his recipe. Too much a good thing, as they say.

Once his nose tells him that he put just enough of the oil, Adam starts whipping it into the cream cheese - he’s never going to be able to get over the differences between the good old Cream cheese back in Essex and the Philadelphia cream cheese available here, is he ? - until he obtains what he needs : a fluffy cream, barely off-white, smooth enough to be shaped in any way his tip will conjure, but solid enough to keep its own against the sturdier chocolate icing waiting in the fridge.

“That is one lucky whip,” a voice comes from the kitchen entrance, and sure enough, back home 17 minutes early is his boyfriend, leaning against the doorframe and eyeing him (and the icing in the bowl) with hunger in his eyes.

“Hey, welcome back, crumpet,” Adam says, feeling his lips stretching at the sight. “Want to stay with me and Kurt tonight?” he offers, returning his attention to the step ahead.

Putting the cream in the piping bag is not something he wants to do with half a mind to it : too many bad memories of the icing falling on his shoes, or worse, on his naked feet because of his brain being distracted by his boyfriend - the stuff may be delicious, but it feels beyond disgusting when he has to clean it.

Sebastian groans and Adam can hear him coming closer, dragging his feet as loudly as humanly possible.

“Can’t you cancel? Just this once?”, he whines and Adam tries to suppress the giggle that threatens to come out at the sound : it is so typically Sebastian, for those who know him enough that he lets his guard down.

Adam smiles at him as he pushes some of the cream out to check the evenness of it inside the bag and smears it on Sebastian’s pouting lips. His boyfriend frowns, but wastes not time before licking it in the most suggestive way Adam has ever seen - again, that’s saying something; it _is_ Sebastian in front of him - and he can’t resist, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips.

The taste of mint is still faint there, heavier on Sebastian’s tongue as he slips his tongue inside his boyfriend’s mouth. Just when Adam is wondering if he can make either of them come before Kurt arrives, the oven lets out an imperious ding and Adam’s cooking reflexes are stronger than his libido, so he pulls away.

When Adam comes back from putting the cupcakes on a cooling rack, Sebastian is pouring some of the minty cream in his mouth. Adam clears his throat to make him stop and Sebastian looks at him and silently puts the piping bag back on the counter, his cheeks bulging with the amount of cream inside.

“You’re ridiculous,” Adam says with a chuckle; there is no way he can stay mad at Sebastian when he looks like a chipmunk gathering food for the winter.

Oh God, if Kurt could see that …

That thought only makes him laugh harder and Sebastian hastily swallows to be able to speak.

“What?”

Adam is burying his head in his arms on the counter, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter, unable to answer.

“Adam, seriously, what?”, Sebastian asks coming closer.

Adam takes a deep breath and straightens up with a last chuckle. “Nothing, love,” he says with a smile, cupping Sebastian’s face to peck his lips, “you’re lucky I’m the only one seeing you like this.”

Sebastian leans into the caress with a smirk on his face. “Maybe _you_ are lucky I let you see me like this,” he retorts and Adam feels like his heart is going to burst from his chest.

“Oh I know I’m the lucky one,” he whispers before claiming Sebastian’s lips again.

Sebastian leaves him in peace as he ices the cupcakes with the two bags, making a beautiful floral pattern. As a reward, Adam lets him sprinkle the crushed mint leaves he had extra and the glitter - though he is at least 65% sure that Sebastian put some in his hair. That probably looks good anyway so who cares?

 

The cupcakes are in the fridge, and Sebastian is against it, hold up by Adam’s arms and his long legs wrapped around Adam’s waist, when the doorbell rings.

Of course.

Kurt is always right on time for their evenings together - he’s always right on time for pretty much everything. Adam lets go of his boyfriend who slumps against the appliance, waving at him to get the door as he arranges himself to hide his unsatisfied erection.

The man behind the door is a pale shadow of his best friend : he looks like Kurt, is dressed like Kurt but he definitely doesn’t have that inner spark that drew Adam in in the first place.

Kurt gives him a tired smile, his eyes beginning to sparkle once the scent of mint that permeates the place every single time Adam uses the essential oil gets to his nose.

“You made After Eight cupcakes?” he asks, a thankful smile stretching his lips.

Adam smiles and pulls him in a hug, trying to project his support and some of his own strength into Kurt through the contact.

Now he can see why Blaine is concerned. Kurt is trying too hard, pushing himself too far to make everybody happy, but Adam can see it - he saw that particularly gaunt look before, so many times in the past, on the face of actors and dancers about to snap. He is not going to stand that pressure much longer.

And when Sebastian comes out of the kitchen and doesn’t taunt Kurt, simply clapping his back before leaving them alone, Adam comes to realize that it’s obvious to more than one person.

*******

Adam’s After Eight Cupcakes

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/3365566379>

**For 18 cupcakes (got to feed those boys !)**

220 g of flour

180 g of caster sugar

220 g of softened butter

8 g of Baking powder

4 eggs

A few drops of mint essential oil (be careful, it can be very strong)

18 dark chocolate squares

A couple of Crystallized mint leaves

**For the icing :**

80 g of softened butter

150 g of icing sugar

90 g of dark chocolate

AND

200 g of Philadelphia cheese

100 g of mascarpone

80 g of icing sugar

3 (generous) tablespoons of Mint syrup

Food glitter

18 paper cases

 

Preheat the oven at 356 °F.

To prepare the dough : mix the flour, the baking powder and the sugar in a mixer. Then add the softened butter, the eggs and the mint essential oil.

Fill the paper cases to 2/3rd and add one square of dark chocolate and some crushed crystallized mint leaves. Put it the oven for 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, you can jump on working on the icing - or more accurately, the icingS !

First, the chocolate buttercream : melt the chocolate in a bain-marie, let it get lukewarm.

Meanwhile, blend the butter and the sugar until it gets homogeneous. Then you can add the melted chocolate. Once it’s perfectly blended, put the whole thing in a piping bag. Once it’s done, you can get started on the second icing : mix the Philadelphia cheese with the icing sugar and the mint syrup and put it in a second piping bag.

Once the cupcakes are baked and out of the oven and cold enough, it’s time to become artistic mes amis !

Choose your tips carefully so you can have fun with the combined patterns - the colors will already complement each other.

End with the glitter : got to make sure those cupcakes look fabulous !


	3. Hibiscus and Pomegranate Cake

**_September_ **

It takes the beginning of Fall, around the time of their dinner for the Jewish new year mixed with a celebration of the end of the summer, for Kurt to finally start crumpling under the pressure.

  
In retrospect, he will see that he let the smallest of drops tip over his mental vase, but retrospect is a luxury he cannot afford when it all happens.

 

When he comes home that day, after “it” happened, his shock must be written all over his face, since Blaine’s reaction once he looks up to welcome him is to widen his eyes and cut his cheery greeting short, no doubt taking in his teary eyes and his trembling hands.

“Kurt?” Blaine asks, worry lacing his voice, “what happened? Are you okay?”

Kurt’s hands shake even harder, the shivers travelling through his whole body. “Some - somebod- somebody …”, he stammers, and Blaine practically jumps out of his chair to get to him and wrap his arms around Kurt - coat and bag and all -, rubbing circles on his back.

Kurt buries his head in the crook of his husband’s neck, letting himself be held and sheltered for the time being.

“Someone stole my phone in the subway,” he finally manages to whisper, his lips caressing the skin of Blaine’s neck as he does, feeling his eyes filling up with a fresh wave of tears.

Blaine stays quiet, keeping the motion of his hand on Kurt’s back to act as a balm on his husband’s raw emotional state. He has learned the hard way - as in, with screaming matches and nights on the couch - that there is no point trying to calm Kurt with platitudes and clichés like “It’s going to be okay”.

There is obviously more to Kurt’s meltdown than the loss of his cellphone.

“Did they hurt you?” he asks softly instead, tilting his head backward a little to properly look at him, as if his watchful eyes would detect any physical injury. Kurt shakes his head, finally slipping his arms around Blaine’s waist.

“Good,” Blaine replies to his silent answer, relief heavy in his voice, “at least there’s that.”

He says it half in comfort and half in jest; usually, Kurt would snap at him, telling him in no uncertain words that there is nothing good about this situation. Right now Blaine would gladly take that biting attitude over the silent, unresponsive man in his arms, whose eyes are getting greyer every day. _This_ is far more terrifying than any of Kurt’s warth.

“Is there something I can do?” Blaine offers, slowly getting desperate to get a reaction - any kind of reaction - from his husband, when finally, at last, a small, fleeting smile appears on Kurt’s face.

“Draw me a bath?” Kurt asks, the smile small on his lips but reaching his eyes, and Blaine smiles back, kissing his temple.

“Of course,” he replies, and then, dropping his voice a little, “with sandalwood or with husband?”

The smile on Kurt’s lips gets bigger, along with a little twinkle in his eyes.

“Would it be greedy of me to ask for both?” he asks, nuzzling a little deeper into Blaine’s shoulder.

“Absolutely not - I was hoping you’d say that,” Blaine replies fondly, “go on and take off your clothes, I’ll take care of the rest, okay ?”

 

Ten minutes later, Blaine is stepping inside the scalding bath water - just like Kurt likes it - , the dizzying smell of sandalwood everywhere around him - again, just like Kurt likes it - when Kurt steps inside the bathroom, completely naked.

He literally takes Blaine’s breath away, even after all these years together.

He can’t exactly stop the smile that spreads on his face as he looks at his husband’s body. Oh, Blaine knows that tonight is not a time for letting his hormones take the wheel. The thing is, ever since he realized how much he loved Kurt, body and soul, he has not been able to have full control over the physical reaction that goes hand in hand with those feelings.

The sight of Kurt’s long limbs, as muscular and as perfect as when he was a teenager, of his skin still sun-kissed from their summer spent on Coney Island’s beaches and of his slightly tousled hair, no doubt from pulling his shirt off - all of it stirs something in Blaine’s gut that he carefully sets aside, for the time being.

 _‘Now’_ is for Kurt, for his needs and his wishes.

Completely settling in the water, Blaine can’t resist the opportunity to make his husband smile and opens his arms wide.

“All set for you, darling,” he says with a big smile, and Kurt looks at him for a moment before sliding in.

\---

Some parts of Kurt’s brain know and appreciate how beautiful Blaine looks and how much he tries to comfort him, how inviting both the bath and his embrace are.

Unfortunately, it’s not the biggest part of his brain, and definitely not the loudest.

The vast majority of Kurt’s brain, even as he settles against Blaine’s chest in the bath, is reeling over the loss of his phone and the consequences he’s going to face in the morning.

Ever since he opened up about being stressed, both to his husband and to his (other) best friend, Kurt has tried to slow down, to kept his work hours to a more normal schedule, he really has.

The thing is, there are forces out of his control that pull him from all sides.

More than the stress he’s actually going through, it’s probably that fact that gets him down the hardest.

Kurt is not exactly controlling, per se; he does not screech or lose his mind if someone else takes the wheel from time to time. He can’t stand the idea of not being the actual master of his Fate, and it’s slowly dragging his moral and his psyche down.

Kurt doesn’t know if being _aware_ of that fact is making it worse or not. All he knows is that he can feel himself slipping away from Blaine, that a job that used to be his fuel and passion is slowly turning into an ordeal, that he feels no joy at the thought of seeing his friends in a couple of days - he doesn’t feel anything actually, and it scares him down to his bones.

“Hold me closer,” he whispers to Blaine, grabbing his husband’s hands around his waist and trying to sink deeper in his embrace. Something in his voice must sound like urgency, given the way Blaine tries to wrap himself around him in a second.

They stay in the rapidly cooling water, Kurt held tight against Blaine, until the feeling of the water is more uncomfortable than comforting. Kurt doesn’t have the time to shiver - Blaine practically jumps out of the bath to grab both their sponge robes and wraps one around Kurt’s frame, pulling him in another hug.

At last, Kurt can feel something in his gut, something that fills the void he feels himself slipping in and when he nuzzles Blaine’s neck, there is a smile on his face.

“Thank you,” he whispers before claiming Blaine’s mouth in a searing kiss.

“Psshh,” Blaine replies, blowing a raspberry when Kurt releases his lips, “only doing my duty as husband of the year,” he adds with a mock salute. The purple shade of his bathrobe really makes it ridiculous and Kurt lets out a relieved laugh.

As he turns to go back to their bedroom, he misses the worried frown on Blaine’s face.

\---

A couple of days later, Rachel drags Blaine in the kitchen the moment she arrives at their apartment for the New Year dinner, while Kurt stays in the living room playing with her toddler: Esther is the happiest two-years old he has ever seen, and she doesn’t seem to mind to be alone with her mommy - there are enough men in her life to cover all of the father figure basics.

Rachel puts the wrapped cake on the counter, away from Blaine’s grabbing hands, and turns to look at him in her best stern posture.“What is going on with Kurt?” she immediately asks, keeping her voice low to make sure that Kurt doesn’t catch them talking about him behind his back.

Blaine sighs and leans against the counter. “I don’t know,” he finally answers, lowering his head in defeat, and Rachel comes to stand closer to him. “I know he feels like work is overwhelming and he doesn’t know how to say no, you know how he can get …” Blaine explains, letting Rachel emphatically nod in answer to that: they both know how much of an over-achiever Kurt is.

“Maybe you should force him to take a break - God knows you two haven’t taken a vacation in a long time,” Rachel offers, raising her hand in front of Blaine’s face when he goes to protest, “and weekends at Coney Island don’t count, Anderson. When was the last time you went to Lima?” she asks and Blaine finds himself properly silenced.

It has been far too long since they went back to their home state. Maybe there is something to Rachel’s suggestion - a change of scenery would do the both of them a world of good.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally says, his smile bigger than when he opened the door, and Rachel smiles back before turning on her heels.

“Now, mister Hummel-Anderson, give me back my bubaleh,” she calls, playfully serious, and a high-pitched giggle echoes from the living room.

\--

The dinner goes as well as it could have.

Esther makes a mess of her face and her dress with the apple slices dipped in honey that are mandatory for the Rosh Hashana dinner and Rachel doesn’t even wince when some droplets land on her dress when she goes to clean her daughter’s face. Blaine’s tajine of lamb with the last peaches and apricots is a big hit with the adults and the kids - though given the way Sebastian jealously guards the bones in his plate to make sure that they’re clean before letting go, and the way Esther looks at him with the most judgemental look they’ve ever seen, the limit between the two categories is obviously fuzzy.

Then it’s time for dessert, and Blaine is almost bouncing on his chair - he looks more excited about Rachel’s cake than her own daughter, and Sebastian doesn’t miss this opportunity to lightly tease of him for it. He laughs a little harder, though, when Sebastian apologizes with his mouth full with his first bite of the delicious cake, light and fluffy and the perfect conclusion to the meal.

The delicate taste of Amandin, stronger than simple almond powder, fills their mouths with a light layer of softness and Kurt notices that Adam is muttering to himself, probably wondering if he could use it in an amuse-bouche dessert for his buffets.

Since Blaine thought of putting it in the oven while they were cleaning the table, the cake is lukewarm and the taste of the pomegranate seeds is even stronger, exploding on their tongues like microscopic fireworks. And as a last taste, right when they’re swallowing, the tanginess of Hibiscus comes like an encore, taking over the mouth and cleaning it of the oily taste of almonds. It’s citrusy without the acidity of lemon or lime and it feels like they just refreshed their mouth, getting ready for the next bite.

Kurt brings everyone hot beverages to go with the cake, only too happy to contribute to the end of the meal. Adam drinks his customary black tea, shared with Rachel, while Sebastian enjoys a Russian tea with cherries - though it’s the first time he refuses them, claiming that the dessert is sweet enough (as the evening progresses, some of the cherries do end up being cheerfully chewed).

Esther slowly drinks her warm milk and Kurt has absolutely no qualms about sharing it. As for Blaine, he picks hot water and lemon slice with some of the honey, claiming that it’s just to stay in the theme of the evening and Rachel snorts in her elbow to hide her giggles.

All in all, the first meal of the year 5785 - or 2025, with a couple of months in advance for the rest of them non-Jewish folks - is a success, and if the Jewish customs are right and if the first meal is a reflexion of how the year is going to go, well, they should be off for a pretty sweet year.

*****

Hibiscus and pomegranate cake

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/1571370315>

**For one whole cake**

150 g of flour

100 g of Amandin (a mix of almond powder and apricots kernel powder)

5-6 g of baking powder

60 g of Hibiscus syrup

120 g of caster sugar

4 eggs

120 g of unsalted butter

30 g of salted butter

Pomegranate seeds (as much as you like !)

  
Preheat the oven at 320°F.

Mix the flour, the Amandin, the baking powder and the sugar. Then you can add the eggs and Hibiscus syrup, and mix it well.

Melt the butter and add it delicately to the dough.

Add the pomegranate seeds and mix it to make sure that they are evenly distributed inside the dough.

You can either take a silicon mold or a classic, authentic one, but in the latter, butter it and sprinkle some flour to make sure you can turn it out of the tin.

Put in the oven between 45 and 50 minutes (the pointy part of a knife has to come out of the cake completely clean and dry).

Turn it out and eat while lukewarm - it’s better this way.

Chana tova !

 


	4. Madeleines

 “ _She sent for one of those squat, plump little cakes called "petites madeleines," which look as though they had been moulded in the fluted valve of a scallop shell. And soon, mechanically, dispirited after a dreary day with the prospect of a depressing morrow, I raised to my lips a spoonful of the tea in which I had soaked a morsel of the cake. No sooner had the warm liquid mixed with the crumbs touched my palate than a shudder ran through me and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary thing that was happening to me_.”

Marcel Proust, _In Search of Lost Time_

****

**_October_ **

As it is often the case in Kurt Hummel’s life, it takes a trip to his father’s house to finally see the situation as it really is and wake up from it.

There must be something about Burt, about his “take no bullshit for an answer” attitude, that forces him to face a truth he has been dodging for -- for months now, if he’s being totally honest.

Blaine had almost managed to convince him to go back to Ohio, to take a real vacation and celebrate Thanksgiving properly - they had fought about it actually, Blaine letting him know how worried he was about Kurt’s inability to think of himself first.

 

_“I love you Kurt, and I love how selfless you can be, but I’m begging you now, be selfish for once !” Blaine had shouted out, and that alone had stopped Kurt in his rant about his responsibilities. “Why can’t you see that you’re making yourself sick, all because of that job?” Blaine had continued, his voice cracking and tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn’t seem to care, letting them drop on his lap._

_“Please, Kurt,” he had finally said when silence had stretched between them for one beat too long. “Please - if not for you, can you take a break for me? For us?”_

  
In the end, it had been his father’s voice over the phone, weary and worried, that had convinced him to bank in his free days away from work.

 _“We’re going to move in a smaller place - we don’t need all the room_ and _the second floor, even when you come over,” Burt had said, “and I could use the help to clean the attic for good, kiddo.”_

If there was one thing that Kurt knew, it was that his father would go through his plans no matter what, and he’d rather be there to help than let his father go through all the boxes by himself.

Combined with Blaine’s unrelenting insistence that he needed to take a step back, Kurt really couldn’t resist. He’d do anything for them, and if it meant letting other people deal with the craziness that his office was turning into as the Spring show got on track, so be it.

As they fly toward Columbus, Blaine keeps a comforting hold on his hand, even as he dozes off - and really, Kurt feels like he should take a picture because Blaine burying his nose in the pillow provided by the airline is just the most precious sight. The quiet gives him the opportunity to be with his thoughts. Lately, he has found himself locked inside his own brain a little bit too much, but for once he takes the time to think about how much Blaine and he have grown, as individuals and as a couple.

Guilt-tripping is not Blaine’s favorite approach, Kurt knows that: his husband is a firm defender of a direct approach - he’s so much like Burt in this aspect - and to see that his behavior has pushed his husband in a sort-of corner makes his stomach twist like a strand of liquorice. Besides, it’s more than him simply being stubborn and overworking himself.

Lately, and increasingly in the past week, Kurt has felt completely disconnected from his job. Fashion has always been a fixture in his life, even before it became his profession, and he cannot conceive his life without it.

He can’t.

However, the fact remains that his brain draws a blank when he tries to think about the upcoming event he has planned: the Christmas official, media loaded party in, what, two weeks? He has no idea, no clue to what would be the best performance to showcase it, and worse, he can’t find himself to care about it.

The fact that he doesn’t worry about not coming up with something interesting and challenging like he has done in the past probably worries him the most.

He’s not blind: he can see himself, trying to force his brain to focus and produce ideas that brought him to his position, and there is this little voice at the back of his mind whispering that it’s all pointless, and wouldn’t he prefer to be at home, buried under the covers?

Only the prospect of spending time with Blaine gives him the motivation to actually push the covers away from his head in the morning. In some aspects, the subtle presence of Rachel, Adam, and even Sebastian - what has the world come to if Kurt can call Sebastian a friend ?- is a crutch that keeps him standing morally, but it’s all that it is, a crutch, a support and Kurt can’t stand to see himself so weak and pathetic.

He definitely needs the time off to focus on him and his loved ones, and regroup, because he can’t let this situation fester and worsen any longer.

\---

Burt is beyond worried. He’s on the verge of kidnapping his grown-up son and forcing him to only sleep and eat for a week. Or two.

He could hear the fatigue in Kurt’s voice during their numerous discussions over the phone, of course he could - Burt prides himself on thinking that he can notice all the variations in his son’s inflexions - but he didn’t expect to see it so obviously etched in Kurt’s posture.

While Kurt goes in the kitchen with Carole to supervise - Burt tries to keep his own brain from saying ‘take over’ - the Thanksgiving meal preparations, Burt pulls Blaine aside under the pretense of going over the different boxes that need to be packed. The pretense is not a complete lie, though, since Blaine is one talented “Tetris player” when it comes to packing and arranging stuff around.

“I know”, Blaine says before Burt can say anything. “He’s not really himself lately.”

Burt frowns at that and almost runs back to the kitchen to talk about it with his son, but sits next to his son-in-law. “Did something happen ?” he asks, putting his forearms on his knees.

Blaine lets out a sad laugh that makes Burt hurt. “Life happened, Kurt being unable to admit that he’s taken more than he can chew happened …”, he says, letting his voice trail off into a sigh and Burt’s mouth twists into a grimace. “And everybody but him can see it”, Blaine adds, turning his head towards Burt. However, his eyes widen when he catches a pair of blue-green eyes looking at them with a frown.

“Are you two talking about me?”, Kurt asks, his fingers gripping the door frame. “Behind my back?,” Kurt’s voice cracks and Blaine jumps to his feet.

“It’s not like that, Kurt”, he says softly, reaching for Kurt’s hand but his husband is faster, recoiling from his touch and taking a step back.

“No, no”, Kurt says, looking at anything but his father and Blaine. “I see how it is. You all think that I can’t take care of myself ? That I’m too weak to say ‘no’ when I have too much on my plate ? That I just don’t know when to stop ?”, he says, his voice growing louder and louder, until Carole comes up the stairs to see what is going on. “IS THAT IT, BLAINE? YOU THINK YOU KNOW WHAT’S BEST FOR ME MORE THAN I DO?”, he finally shouts, tears in his eyes and his whole body shaking.

Blaine stands, frozen and in shock, and Burt takes a step towards his son.

“Kurt”, he says softly. Somehow, his voice reminds Kurt of the tone his father used when Kurt was an hysterical little boy calling for his mother in the darkest hours of the night. “I was the one asking what is going on with you”, he explains and when Kurt turns to look at him with his mouth open to cut him he barrels on.

“I can see that something is not right with you, kiddo, and you won’t tell me anything. As a matter of fact, I’m sure you won’t even admit it to yourself”, he adds, now close enough to put his hand on Kurt’s shoulder.

The gesture is all it takes for Kurt’s armor to crumble. Kurt inhales at the contact, and as he exhales, tears finally flow. Blaine is shaken from his frozen state when Carole pulls him by the hand.

“Let’s give them a minute, shall we ?”, she whispers and Blaine nods, feeling his own eyes fill up. “Hey”, she says, cupping his face and wiping away a stray tear with her thumb, “it’s going to be alright, okay? Burt will help him,” she adds with her soft smile. “Now come, I have cranberries that need a sure hand to be cut.”

\----

When Kurt feels like there is no more tears in his body, he slumps against his father’s shoulder, letting him support his weight while rubbing circles on his back.

It’s all so reminiscent of comforting memories, both from his childhood and his teenage years. Kurt is suddenly hit with guilt and not a little amount of shame, as he realizes how often his father has been there for him, providing support no matter what - and this is how he repays him?

“‘m sorry”, he mumbles in the cotton of Burt’s shirt, and his father tightens his hold around him.

“What for?”, Burt grumbles back, rubbing his cheek against his son’s hair.

“For being such a-”, Kurt starts only to stop when he needs to sniffle, “-such a mess.”

Burt softly pushes Kurt away from him, keeping his hands on Kurt’s shoulders. “You’re not a mess, Kurt”, he says and his voice leaves no room for discussion. “But I do think you need to bank in those days you should have free from work. The sooner the better”, he adds pointedly when Kurt starts shaking his head.

Kurt remains silent, looking at the floor or at his hands, but definitely not at his father.

Burt lets out a sigh and grabs Kurt’s chin to force him to look up - his son may be a grown man, but sometimes, he swears, he behaves like a stubborn child.

“I’m not telling you to quit your job - as a matter of fact, I don’t want to tell you what to do”, Burt tells Kurt and there is a flash of doubt in his son’s eyes, “since I know it’s the best way to make sure you won’t do it.”

Kurt chuckles shortly at that and the sound is still a little wet.

“However”, Burt continues, trying not to get offended at the way his son is rolling his eyes at him, “You definitely need to take a step back - a literal one, because if Blaine is incapable of hiding how much he worries, then something is very wrong, kiddo.”

That shakes Kurt out of his stubborn silence. His eyes drift to the room’s doorway and again there is that cloud of sadness in his son’s eyes; the only difference is in the fondness that blends with that sadness, battling in Kurt’s irises.

“He does worry, doesn’t he?”, Kurt murmurs and Burt nods - it’s all he can do and it’s not a nice feeling.

“And it’s all my fault, isn’t it?”, he continues, more tears filling his eyes.

Burt swipes them with his thumbs before they can roll down Kurt’s face. “It’s not”, he says, trying to put as much strength as he can in each word. “He worries because he loves you - as I do, as Carole does. We care because we love you, and we can see that you’re not happy, Kurt”, he adds because it feels like Kurt only hears the parts that make him feel worse.

Kurt takes a deep breath, seemingly swallows his tears and smiles hesitantly at him. “And I’m so very grateful for it, Dad, I really am”, he says before nuzzling his head on Burt’s shoulder. “How about we take care of that room while Blaine and Carole finish the dinner’s preparation?”, he adds as he looks up, nodding towards the empty boxes and the full shelves.

Burt is not entirely satisfied with that answer, but he knows his son - he knows that Kurt might act like he doesn’t need their advice, but he listens.

He will think about it, about taking a break, and that alone will make a difference.

\---

“Look what I found in Mom’s dresser!”, Kurt exclaims as he bounds down the stairs, Burt following him, a big grin on both their faces. As they enter the kitchen. Blaine looks up from the cutting board with wide eyes : Kurt’s voice is filled with excitement and happiness - it is a nice change from the Kurt he has lived with in the past weeks.

“The perfume one?”, he asks, drying his hands on a towel and Kurt nods like a mad man, his smile so wide that his teeth are showing - Blaine could kiss him right this instant.

“Apparently she had a secret box inside of the structure. When we moved from our old house, we used the dresser to move most of the linen so we missed it, but,” and here Kurt needs to take a deep breath, “when we moved it right now the box rattled and we opened it and ta-daaa,” Kurt says, presenting them an old book, “Mom’s recipes book!”

Blaine beams at him and comes to stand by Kurt’s side to look at the book. It’s leather bound, with a deep red, almost burgundy fabric on the spine, and on the cover, there is a little piece of fabric, yellowed by time but still intact, with “Recettes” embroidered in burgundy thread.

“It’s beautiful”, Blaine says as he runs his fingers reverently on the spine.

“It really is”, Kurt replies before pressing a kiss to the corner of Blaine’s mouth. “Thank you”, he whispers and Blaine ducks his head, a blush appearing on his face and neck.

Back to his normal volume, Kurt turns to Carole. “I think I want to try one of those for desserts - just to get something else than the usual pie you know ?”

Carole is already nodding vigorously. “Of course honey”, she replies, rubbing Kurt’s arm. “I already changed the usual stuffing, we might as well change the dessert - what did you have in mind ?”, she asks and Kurt opens the book; he obviously had saved the page beforehand.

Carole’s eyes become as wide as saucepans. “Oh, mah-de-lanes,” she reads, delighted, and Kurt resists the urge to correct the pronunciation. “Go ahead, honey, go - ahead”.

“Want my help ?”, Blaine asks once Carole exits the kitchen, but Kurt shakes his head.

“I kind of want to do it by myself - for Mom, you know ?”, he replies, before taking Blaine’s hand in his and lifting it to his lips. “But there is a needed time to let the dough rest, maybe we can find some time for ourselves ?”

Blaine’s eyes darken and he leans forward to chastely kiss Kurt. “Looking forward to it then”, he whispers, voice dark and teasing.

Sure, Kurt didn’t necessarily mean it _that_ way, but now that he thinks about it - while wrapping Carole’s apron around his waist and hips, what a strange sensation - he can see that it’s been a while since the two of them really took the time to be intimate with each other.

As the butter melts in a little pan, Kurt tries to put a date on the last time they made love and didn’t just fuck as a perfunctory act - he blushes when he realizes that it goes all the way back to their short second honeymoon in August.

Whipping the eggs with the sugar suddenly feels like an outlet more than a necessary step, but at least the content of his bowl is more than frothy - can’t hurt, right?

Kurt needs a break then, before adding the dry ingredients, and he looks up, taking a deep breath.

It hasn’t been a day and this vacation is already a complete roller coaster - the fatigue and, let’s use the proper words, the depression, the outburst, the meltdown, the heart-to-heart and the discovery of his mother’s heritage, hidden all these years? It’s too much.

The butter makes a hissing noise in the pan and Kurt focuses on the recipe - at least there is order and sense in it.

Dragging his eyes from the ceiling, Kurt spots a jar of grated coconut on the shelf and he’s hit by an idea.

He doesn’t know where it comes from, he usually isn’t one to stray from a recipe when he’s baking - God knows that Adam has told him enough times that you don’t play with recipes - but he just feels like it’s right.

 

It’s him taking his mother’s recipe and owning it, proving that he is her “deserving” heir.

It’s him taking control of something and creating something new out of something old.

It’s the right thing to do, without any shade of doubt, Kurt decides as he takes the jar from the shelf and changes his measures.

\---

While the dough rests in the refrigerator - Elizabeth’s recipe called for at least a fortnight but Carole’s fridge is super cold and they don’t have all that time available anyway - Kurt gets reacquainted with Blaine’s “weak spots”. Blaine is by no means inactive, but he lets Kurt take his time with his lips, his teeth and his fingers on whichever patch of skin he finds available.

Blaine’s whimpers are muffled by Kurt’s lips on him; whenever he starts being too loud, Kurt lets go of the spot he was teasing to silence his husband, to make sure that no one is going to look for them.

Kurt is hard, has been so for the moment he cornered Blaine against their bedroom’s door, and he can feel Blaine’s cock against his thigh.

The thing is, he doesn’t want to take care of their erections - and it would be so, so easy to just roll his hips a little bit harder, or to slide his hand under the waistband of Blaine’s pants. Mostly, Kurt wants to prove to himself that he hasn’t lost the connection with his husband and best friend.

“Kurt, it’s been three hours!” Carole calls from the living room and Kurt drops his head on Blaine’s shoulder.

His husband is silently laughing, eyes squinted with the width of his smile.

Blaine turns his head to rub his nose along the line of Kurt’s jaw. “Go”, he says breathlessly, “go and save the madeleines from failure.”

Kurt laughs at that and presses a kiss to the tip of Blaine’s nose. “That’s my mission - making sweets for the poor citizens of Gotham”, he comments with a shrug of his shoulders.

Blaine winks at him. “Thank you for the idea of Baker Batman, I was thinking about writing a fic this weekend!”, he calls as Kurt walks out of the room.

God, his husband is a ridiculous geek - but he is his ridiculous geek, and Nightbird never fails to save him, after all.

\----

When Blaine finally comes down the stairs, Kurt and Carole are sitting on the floor in front of the oven, eyes wide like children in front of a Disney movie, and Burt is sitting on a chair, looking at the pair of them with fond eyes and Elizabeth’s book in front of him.

“What is going on here?” Blaine asks, pulling another chair to sit next to his father-in-law.

Burt chuckles and pushes the open book in his direction, pointing at a picture stuck on the page. “They want to see _that_ happening,” he explains and Blaine looks at the picture.

The little cake is curvy, sexy even, and Burt is pointing at the trademark rounded ball on top. Blaine giggles at the rapt attention his husband and his mother-in-law are giving to the oven before looking at the other recipes in the book while the cakes rise.

\---

Long after they’re done eating the turkey and the delicious, fruity stuffing Blaine and Carole made, Blaine starts fidgeting in his chair.

“Could I - may I get one madeleine?”, he asks, almost hesitant and Burt looks at him with a frown.

“You still can eat? Seriously?” he says incredulously and Blaine blushes.

“It’s not really hunger, at this point, it’s --”, Blaine starts, to defend himself but Carole cuts him off.

“Gluttony?”, she says and she starts laughing at the embarrassed look on Blaine’s face.

“Oh, I’m just teasing, sweetie,” she adds before leaning over the table. “I wouldn’t mind trying them myself, to be honest”, she mock-whispers and the two Hummel men join in the laughter.

“I’ll go get them”, Kurt says, walking backwards toward the kitchen. “And for your information, Carole - he comments on his way - the French word for gluttony would be far more appropriate in this situation.”

“How so?”, Carole asks once he’s back - she doesn’t have the strength to shout, digestion takes too much out of her.

“Gourmandise”, Kurt says, savoring each syllable delicately as he puts the plate on the table.

“It doesn’t have any negative sense, it’s just - the pure pleasure of savoring food,” he explains, pushing the plate toward Blaine as his husband sneakily - or so he thinks - moves his fingers toward the little madeleines.

They’re perfectly round and golden - for a first try, Kurt can be proud of himself; Blaine certainly is impressed.

As Blaine takes one madeleine in his hand, he marvels at the lightness of it before taking it to his nose to smell it. He salivates instantly: the brown sugar gives a smoky perfume to the cake, but there is something else, a sort of undercurrent smell to the madeleines that Blaine can’t identify. It’s … exotic, that’s for sure, and he just knows that he’s going to facepalm when Kurt tells him what his secret ingredient is.

The first bite is a revelation: there is nothing quite like grated coconut, in terms of textures and finesse and Blaine kind of wants to keep this bite in his mouth forever. A moan escapes his lips before he can control it, but he doesn’t have to be ashamed for long; the moment Burt and Carole join him in their degustation, they let out pleased sounds (though they don’t go as far as moaning, and both young men are eternally grateful for it), and from the corner of his eye, Blaine can see that Kurt is preening, even if he’s not touching his own madeleine yet.

\---

Kurt doesn’t feel like eating - he really feels too full as it is, and all his senses are focused on the enjoyment in his loved ones’ face.

That’s what he misses the most, with the way his job has turned: he cannot connect with the people enjoying his creations, and he doesn’t have any feedback because his boss is greedy with his compliments. He needs the feedback, he needs the applause. He needs to know that he’s making a difference in people’s lives, and for the better.

*****

Madeleines

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/3678489574>

**For 25 madeleines**

125 g of butter

3 eggs

125 g of brown sugar

125 g of sieved flour

3 tablespoons of grated coconut

Half a pack of baking powder

**For the icing**

Half a lime’s juice

150 of fondant

Green coloring (not mandatory)

 

Melt the butter.

Meanwhile, whisk the eggs and the sugar to get a frothy mixture. Add the baking powder, the flour and then the grated coconut.

Then and only then you can add the melted butter.

Mix it all well, and leave the dough to rest in the refrigerator a whole night (keep it in the cold until the baking moment).

Preheat the oven at 464°F.

Fill your molds to the 3.4, and put in the hot hot hot oven for approx. 12 minutes. You’ll know that it’s done when the infamous little mond appears.

Meanwhile, prepare the icing : warm up the fondant in a bain marie, add the lime juice and keep it warm on a corner of the stove.

When the madeleines are cold, dip the underbelly into the icing and let it to dry before serving.


	5. Raviolis au foie gras

**_December_ **

Convincing Felix to let him take half of November and December off is not easy, per se, but it’s far easier than Kurt anticipated.

The mere mention of “uninspired lately”, “tired”, “too much pressure” and “tip toeing the line with moral harassment” certainly does the trick.

Alas, it’s not like inactivity is ingrained in the Hummel DNA.

Sure, The first week, Kurt gets all the sleep he can get - long nights, naps, you name it he uses it.

And Blaine is more than happy to call all the favors his colleagues owe him to go back home earlier so they can be together, in every sense of the word.

They talk, reconnecting on a deeper level now that Kurt’s full attention is on the moment. It also feels like their libido is going against the current of the temperature outside of their apartment. The colder it gets, the hotter the sex becomes, or so it feels anyway.

Kurt rediscovers simple pleasures; like licking his way down Blaine’s spine while his husband is on the verge of awakening; like completely waking him up with a “good morning” blow job. Even sitting in bed and watching with careful eyes the way Blaine dresses up for his own day of work feels like a simple pleasure, equal in Kurt’s eyes to some simple dark chocolate grated over his coffee.

It’s not a big deal, but it makes all the difference.

The second week, while he keeps mending the bond between them - it’s not broken, nothing can break them, really, but certainly it’s at least bent -, Kurt tries to focus on what he wants.

One thing is certain in his mind: he can’t go on the way he did before his meltdown (he refuses to call it any other way). So he makes list and he talks about it over dinner with Blaine, or over drinks with Santana and Dani - more Dani than Santana, actually, since his former classmate has an infuriating habit of throwing ridiculous ideas on the table, which only adds to his confusion.

“Santana, he’s not going to become a school teacher!”, Dani says with a roll of her eyes as she pours a second round of Cosmopolitans.

Santana is standing, nursing her cranberry juice and rubbing her swollen tummy. “And why not?”, she shouts back and Kurt tries to make himself as small as possible. “They always go on and on about how they may be ready to have kids - that would be a perfect test to see if Hummel would be a good padre!”

Kurt raises one hand to stop them before it turns ugly. “I appreciate the … vote of confidence, ‘Tana, but no - it’s not in my plans.”

Santana mutters about his lack of cojones (or something) and he returns to his list.

\--

_2 days later_

In front of Kurt, laying on the table, a sheet of paper glares at him.

Kurt taps his pen on the table before throwing it away as he stands up.

He opens a window, to let the cold air into the apartment and hoping that it will clear his mind.

The only thing it brings is the smell drafting from the restaurant’s kitchen one building on their left, the little Turkish restaurant that he avoids like the plague because he never knows what kind of meat is cooked there, but he has to admit that the roasting smell is pretty mouthwatering.

He hasn’t been able to pinpoint what he wants to do with his life to get out of his funky mood, as the last line on his paper attests, and now, in addition to that, he’s hungry.

“Never work on an empty stomach,” Isabelle used to say, and he doesn’t want to disobey his fairy godmother.

As he quickly makes himself a tomato soup and a grilled cheese, he decides that he’s going to stop thinking about it. This time out of work is supposed to help him relax, not stress him more, isn’t it?

He knows that some of the ideas came from his binge watching on culinary shows - all of Masterchef and Top Chef and Top Chef desserts episodes and more than four viewings of “Julie and Julia” in a span of a few weeks would “brainwash” him into looking in a cooking’s direction.

But he can’t do that. He spent his whole adult life working toward design and fashion - he can’t just throw it all down the drain for a childhood dream, now can he? Nah - he simply needs to focus on himself for a while, to find his center once more, and in the meantime, get ready for one epic Chrismukkah dinner - even if Hanukkah ends two whole days before Christmas Eve, Rachel agreed to make latkes and he’s not going to pass that opportunity.

\---

They can hear Adam’s laughter long before there is even a knock on the door, but when Blaine goes to open it, flanked by Dani and Santana who brought Rachel’s latkes and her apology, it’s not the British man who’s standing in the opening.

Sebastian is there, a proud smirk on his face as he presents a Tupperware box to Blaine, and Adam is behind him, still giggling like a madman.

“Welcome guys,” Blaine says smile, quickly switched to a frown. “Everything alright?”

Sebastian huffs as he takes off his coat. “Don’t mind him, he has a Tea brain,” he says haughtily before skipping to the kitchen, obviously attracted by the smell of saffron and blending with the smell of the Christmas tree.

“What’s with him?”, Blaine asks Adam as he puts his coat over Sebastian’s on the hook by the door.

Adam looks at his boyfriend’s retreating back with a fond smile before putting one arm around Blaine’s shoulders. “The young mister Smythe is ridiculously proud of himself for making his muffins all by himself”, he explains and he can feel Blaine trying to move away from him, no doubt to get to the plate of muffins.“Good god, you’re even worse than him when it comes to a sweet tooth!”, he exclaims, releasing Blaine who simply sticks out his tongue at him.

\---

“So tell me, Anderson”, Sebastian says as he sips his appletini (“Laugh again at me being a cliché, Hummel, and you’ll suffer”), “what exactly did you bring to the table?”

“Well, Smythe”, Blaine says, affecting the same sarcastic tone and pouring himself a glass of eggnog, “the table, for starters.”

“Huh?”

“I decorated the whole table - the whole place, actually”, Blaine preens, “and I prepared all the drinks.”

Sebastian snorts into his drink. “Wow, how big of you,” he deadpans, and Adam and Kurt laugh at them.

“I had a -- very busy day,” Blaine retorts, practically burying his face in his glass to hide his blush.

Adam makes a questioning sound at Kurt and the brunet laughs a little more. “He spent the day looking at me.”

Adam looks back at Blaine with wide eyes. “I can see the appeal, mate, but seriously?”

Blaine sputters his last gulp of eggnog and slams the glass on the table. “He made fresh pasta dough okay ? He was kneading and rolling and kneading and folding some more - it was irresistible and I’m not ashamed to admit it: my husband is mighty fine and it is my wedded right to appreciate all of his assets,” Blaine says, ending in a huff as he walks back in the kitchen to get some more drinks.

Adam switches his attention back to Kurt. “Homemade pasta dough, huh?”

Kurt doesn’t notice the new sparkle in his friend’s eyes as he picks up a breadstick - courtesy of Dani’s mother - to nibble on. “I figured that only the best would do for you folks”, he replies, “and what’s better than homemade pasta?”

“Lots of homemade pasta!”, Sebastian and Dani exclaim, waving their fingers at each other like some cool handshake without actually touching hands.

Adam exchanges a long, suffering look with Santana over their respective partners’ special brand of dorkiness.

“Speaking of pasta,” Blaine calls as he comes back from the kitchen with a bottle of wine and one of champagne, “the timer went off, love.”

Kurt rushes to the kitchen and they can all hear sounds of plates being slammed on the counter and the unmistakable sound of liquids being poured into said plates.

“Get to your seats, folks,” Blaine comments with a chuckle, “you’re about to swoon.”

Sebastian looks at him, his face a mask of disbelief. “Swoon? Over food? You do remember that my man is a chef, right?”

Blaine smirks at him as he pulls out Santana’s chair. “A Jackson say you’ll swoon.”

\--

The moment the plate of broth is placed in front of him, with the three raviolis swimming among the roasted vegetables, and the perfume of saffron drifts to his nose, Sebastian pulls a twenty dollar note from his breast pocket and slides it towards Blaine who pockets it happily. Kurt surveys the exchange without a word and with a thousand questions in his eyes, but before Blaine can say anything, the room is suddenly filled with slurping noises and moans of delight.

Kurt smiles at their friends’ reaction and dips his own spoon in the bowl, managing to get a piece of a ravioli with a soaked morel. The fat of the foie gras is the first thing that registers on his tastebuds, coating his tongue, alongside the delicate but rich taste of the Indian spice. Totally worth the very large amount of money he paid for the red filaments and the godforsaken goose liver. Then the taste of the Jerusalem artichoke comes to play, infused as it is in the broth, just like Kurt anticipated - but it’s always good to have proof that you were right. On his next spoon, he’ll have to get a piece of the tuber to have it properly and not just as an idea of the taste, because the sweet, soft taste is the perfect balance to the richness of the other ingredients. It’s kind of refreshing, but it doesn’t exactly cleanse his mouth from the earlier fatty, meaty taste.

And then the grand finale, the morel, soaked from the stock after being cooked for so long, finally lets itself be acknowledged. The taste is earthy, perfectly complimenting the meat and the saffron. The weird texture of the mushroom is also welcomed, providing a surprise after the soft “chewiness” of the piece of ravioli.

Looking at his guests, Kurt waits for their opinion but they’re all focused on their plates, only occasionally humming their enthusiasm, and that’s how he knows that he has, at the very least, their approval.

Even Santana - who had claimed that she didn’t want to eat “the cirrhotic liver of some French poultry” - eyes the last ravioli in Adam’s plate with sad, puppy eyes.

\---

Adam can admit it to himself: he’s jealous. In a totally professional, “I wish I was the one to make it” kind of way. In a “teach me your way” way. And the fact that he feels like this over a bowl of saffron-infused broth and foie gras raviolis, cooked by an amateur? It shakes him to his core.

Ever since he took over the catering business, Adam has tried to find the things that keep him afloat, above the mass of other businesses in the catering field - and God knows that in the past years, they have blossomed like daisies. The things that set trends, that put him and his company at the top of the foodists’ list.

And this? The intelligence that is behind this recipe - and Adam has a feeling Kurt came up with it by trusting his instincts -, behind the way the ingredients manage to shine on their own and at the same time work together as a cohesive, delicious ensemble? It’s a gift.

From what Dani told Sebastian of her long talks with Kurt - and from what Kurt himself has told him - the man seems to be looking for changes in his professional life.

As he cuts the last ravioli in two before sliding the bowl towards a beaming Santana, Adam mulls over the idea of being the bringer of change.

                        *****

Raviolis au foie gras, poêlée safranée

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/2460337198>

**Serves 6 persons**

400 g of raw foie gras

800 g of Jerusalem Artichokes

250 g of morels

Ravioli dough (you can buy it premade in a store, but the homemade recipe : 400 of flour, 2 eggs and 20 cl of water infused with saffron)

50 cl of vegetables stock

Olive oil

Saffron

Flower of salt and pepper

 

Slice the foie gras in thin, small slices.

For the homemade ravioli dough, mix all the ingredients - add some flour if it’s too sticky - and leave it to rest in the refrigerator for one hour. Work in through the mill until you have a long sheet of thin dough. Cut it to the size you want (better to keep it on the small side).

Then put one piece of foie gras in the middle, add some Flower salt and pepper. Place another square of dough on top and stick them together (a thin paintbrush of water should do the trick).

Once it’s done, leave them to rest on a rack and take care of the sides !

Cut the Jerusalem artichokes into quarters, and cook them with the morels in some olive oil in a pan.

Add the saffron infused stock little by little - pace yourself, young padawans.

Careful : keep some of the stock as a sauce for when it’s ready to be served.

When the vegetables are ready, keep them in the pan and cook the raviolis : in a big pan of boiling salted water, put the raviolis in for 4 minutes (should be enough to cook both the dough and the foie gras).

Using little bowls, serve the raviolis on top of the vegetable and some of the stock reduced to a sauce.

Bon appétit, and happy holidays !

 

Sebastian’s Chestnuts muffins

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/986926132>

**For 15 or so muffins**

150 g of flour

50 g of almond powder

50 g of chestnut flour

8 g of baking powder

125 g of caster sugar

125 g of melted butter

3 eggs

100 g of Chestnut cream

 

Preheat the oven at 320°F.

Mix the two kinds of flour, the almond powder and the baking powder. You can then add the sugar, the eggs and the melted butter.

Mix and work the whole thing til it’s perfectly homogeneous.

In muffin tins, put one tablespoon of the dough, add one teaspoon of chestnut cream, one more tablespoon of dough and a nice little ribbon of chestnut cream on top to get a nice caramelized touch on top.

Put in the oven between 16 and 18 minutes.

Eat lukewarm, it’s delicious like this.

(Cook’s personal favorite : take the end of the chestnut cream - because you’re always going to have some left at the end - and smear it on your partner.

~ Sebastian ! ~)


	6. Santana's Happy hour cupcakes

**_January_ **

The year starts with an arrangement between Kurt and Felix: Kurt agrees to let them use his notes for the preparation of the show and Felix agrees to let him work on it from home. It looks like the new year gave the Frenchman the time to realize that burnouts are not to trade with lightly.

There is just one minor, teeny, tiny problem.

Kurt doesn’t want to do it anymore. It seems even emptier than before his break. Well, that’s not entirely true: it’s more as if it doesn’t feel like it’s actually what he studied and trained for for a good portion of his life.

That being said, there is something that feels like a true calling, something that makes him happy and is a productive use of his time, but it’s just crazy. He has no training, who would be crazy enough to hire an amateur cook who didn’t even participate in Masterchef?

He should do Masterchef.

And once again, he’s getting off track: can he seriously be considering such a radical change in his career? Screw his career, in his life? What would Blaine think? What would Isabelle think ? What is _he_ thinking ?

Kurt is distracted from this unhealthy train of thoughts by the doorbell ringing.

“Santana ?”

There is no mistaking the very pregnant belly that precedes Santana everywhere she goes recently - the baby is due in 10 days, and everybody knows that she can’t take it anymore. For his own sake, the baby would better arrive on time.

“Hey, Kurt,” she says, wobbling inside the apartment before Kurt can move aside and dropping her bags near his feet. “Soooo,” she continues, pulling the vowel far longer than necessary, “since we all left you mope and grump around, we didn’t throw _me_ a baby shower, and it’s long overdue, don’t you think?”

Guilt immediately swells in Kurt’s throat. “Oh my God, ‘Tana, I’m so, so sorry. How could I be so selfish? I’ll make it up to you, I promise, I-” he rambles on, but Santana silences him with a little tired laugh and a pat to his chest.

“Hold your horses, Baron von Drama-much,” she says before grabbing the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer ,”though I _was_ hoping you’d say that.”

Self-preservation overcomes guilt - trust Santana to make him like an antelope in the Serengeti. “ _What_ do you want?” he asks, but as she cocks one perfectly arched eyebrow at him and tightens her hold on his shirt, he raises what he hopes is a placating hand. “I mean, how can I repay you for your generosity, your Highness?”

“You know what,” Santana replies as she lets him go in order to wobble - there really isn’t another way to put it - towards Blaine’s armchair and falls into it with a whooshing sound, “I can sense your sarcasm and I don’t even care. I want cupcakes,” she announces, tapping her nails on the leathered arms.

Kurt freezes in the middle of sitting in front of her and frowns. “Cupcakes?” he repeats and she nods in confirmation. “Shouldn’t you ask, oh, i don’t know, a professional baker, like, say, Adam?”

A faint blush appears on Santana’s face, making Kurt even more suspicious. “Speaking of the Hound of Bakerville,” she starts, only to be cut by a rhythmic knock on the door.

Kurt’s eyes dart between the door and his friend who suddenly is fascinated by the way her belly button dents her shirt, before standing up with a shake of his head. This screams “ambush”, he would bet his brooches’ collection on it.

As he passes next to her, he doesn’t resist the urge to pinch her cheek. “About as subtle as an elephant in a porcelain shop,” he comments before letting a sheepish Adam in.

Her indignant cry of “who are you calling an elephant, Hummel” is the perfect welcoming sound.

\---

Adam’s sheepish attitude doesn’t last for long, as he pulls out all his treats from his bag of tricks - Santana mumbles something about maybe needing to call Sebastian, but Kurt shushes her.

“How random of you to drop by,” Kurt comments, crossing his arms over his chest. “Especially when Miss Lopez over here just asked me for some cupcakes for her baby shower.”

“What are the odds, indeed,” Adam replies good naturedly and really, this isn’t fair.

“Adam.”

Adam shakes his head at Kurt’s stern tone. “Whatever the lady wants,” he says, nodding towards Santana who looks like she’s trying to seem serene in the havoc she has created.

Kurt sighs - there is obviously no point in trying to tell them to go away, and besides, he did want to speak with Adam, didn’t he?

“And what kind of cupcakes did you want?”

\----

Kurt can’t say that he’s surprised by Santana’s wishes. Since she can’t drink alcohol, and hasn’t drunk any since she first heard her baby’s heartbeat, she wants them to make cupcakes with alcohol.

Adam looks like he’s going to faint - he’s such a purist - but Kurt finds it amusing.

“Last time I checked, you’re a big fan of rum-based cocktails, aren’t you?” he asks and a dreamy look passes in Santana’s eyes. One hand on her belly, she uses the other to mime a silverscreen.

“Oh si,” she says, her voice soft and, dare Kurt say it, wistful, “Mojito y piña colada, es muy rico!”

“If you say so,” Kurt says with a huffed laugh at Adam’s bewildered face. “Wouldn’t it be awesome to make a cocktail cupcake ?” he asks the Englishman and he can almost hear the cogs turning in his head.

“It would work,” Adam muses. “A simple lime or pineapple cake with a water icing, replacing the water with rum -”

“- And we could put crystallized mint leaves on top of the mojito?”

“Or roasted coconut on top of the piña colada!”

Santana claps her hands and even kicks her feet in the air - that is, a couple of inches above the floor.  “Sounds delicious - make them, minions!”

Both men turn to look at her. “Minions?” Adam repeats and Kurt cocks one eyebrow at her.

She smirks at them and struggles to reach for the remote. “You know that’s exactly who you are, don’t even try to deny it - ah!” she exclaims as her fingertips finally reach the plastic and she turns on the TV, effectively silencing them as she focuses her attention on a documentary about the Cirque du Soleil.

Adam opens his mouth, but Kurt pats his arm. “Don’t bother and whip out the Clément.”

\---

They start with the cakes themselves - and if the lime-mint cake is not too complicated to make, Adam is struggling with the right balance for the pineapple one. Two batches are out, almost thrown in the garbage before Santana takes command of the tray and is happily munching the abandoned cakes at the kitchen table, but they both know that Adam is right to dismiss them. The cakes fall on themselves, like a landslide is affecting the whole structure.

Kurt is busy making the icing for his Mojito cupcakes - tasting the white substance with generous spoonfuls - and he looks at his friend.

“You’ve added the eggs already whisked in the butter with the flour-” he starts and Adam grumbles.

“- and I’ve tried separating the yolks and the whites to give them a fluffy texture - to no avail. Eurgh,” he groans again, grabbing the bottle of rum to pour himself an eggshell of it and swallowing it all. Another sigh and then, “I feel like a loser.”

Santana pats his hand. “Nah, you’re not a loser - you just can’t give me the little things I wanted for my baby shower, no biggie!”

“Santana!” Kurt exclaims. “Not helping.”

“Not trying to,” Santana retorts with a shit-eating grin.

Kurt rolls his eyes and turns to his friend who is knocking his head on the table. “Adam,” he calls to get his attention, “what about adding the eggs whole, but one after the other?”

Adam looks up with a perfect meerkat impression - the humor of having Sebastian Smythe’s boyfriend acting like the animal they always have associated with him, his… Patronus, of sort, is not lost on Kurt - and wipes his face with a flour covered hand. “Of course,” he whispers before shouting, “of course!”

Kurt giggles and salutes his epiphany with another generous taste of the icing, before sticking the spoon into Adam’s mouth.

“Mmmmmm,” Adam moans around the spoon, before handing Kurt a lemon. “More juice though - it lacks acidity.”

Adam’s last batch is just getting out of the oven and they can already see that Kurt’s suggestion worked. The cakes are golden and fluffy in their paper cases and the smell of the pineapple drifts in the kitchen.

Naturally, they celebrate their success with a toast of rum.

\---

Santana has never had so much fun. Sure, she can’t drink and she can only eat the cakes that haven’t been iced. But the show certainly makes up for it.

Kurt and Adam are completely, irrevocably, 100% smashed beyond comprehension - and they’re both cuddly, weepy drunks.

“You’re an awethome friend, ‘Dam”, Kurt slurs, sprinkling the crushed mint leaves in his mouth before throwing an arm around Adam’s shoulder.

“No, you-” Adam starts, cut off by a hiccup, “- you are, Kurt. And you’re a ge-gen- …,” he frowns, looking for his word and Santana puts a hand over her mouth to keep quiet. “You’re so smart with the food and the tastes and and -”, there he has to take a break to let out a wail.

Kurt looks up and Santana giggles behind her hand petting her belly when her baby kicks to share the fun.

“Wass wrong?” he asks, awkwardly patting Adam’s head.

“We should work togetheeeer,” Adam cries out, “we would be the Steed and Peel of the cooking world!”

“The what?”

“The - the,” Adam waves his hand in the air, “The Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis of the cakes and cookies!”

Kurt looks enthusiastic at that prospect. “The Laurel and Hardy of icing?”

“The Thelma and Louise of the whisk?” Santana pinches in and Adam points a finger at her.

“YES!”

Adam plays with what remains of the golden sprinkles of grated coconut with a sigh, all of his energy whooshed out of him.

“Ever since Christmas,” he says, and now his voice is clearer than before, sans slurs, “ever since that meal I’ve been meaning to tell you about how I think we could do great things if we put our minds together, but -”

“But?” Kurt prods, not paying attention to Santana who is busy texting like a madwoman.

“But Sebastian told me to let you find your own pace - that wanker,” Adam says, with a fond shake of his head.

“You love that wanker,” Kurt points out, chewing on a lime wedge.

“I wonder why,” Adam says, picking one for himself and chewing on it thoughtfully, until he smacks his forehead. “Oh right - his ass. His ass is brilliant, seriously,” he adds, a dreamy look on his face.

Kurt nods until he frowns. “His ass glows?” he asks, seemingly curious about that strange phenomenon.

Santana doesn’t bother to hide her mirth by now - they wouldn’t notice even if she was actually tap-dancing and laughing in rhythm. Luckily, her texts must have worked, because the door opens in the background, letting Blaine, Sebastian and Dani in. At least she won’t be alone to take care of the two drunken idiots crying in what remains of the icing.

And she’ll get to kiss the rum off Dani’s lips.

            *****

Cupcakes Mojito

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/1673311374>

**For 20 mini cupcakes**

110 g of flour

7 g of baking powder

110g of soft butter

90 g of caster sugar

2 eggs

2 tablespoons of white rum

2 tablespoon of mint syrup

2 limes’ zest

**For the icing**

150 g of icing sugar

1 lime’s juice

1 teaspoon of white rum

Some candied mint leaves crushed

 

Preheat the oven at 356°F.

Mix the flour, the baking powder, the sugar and the eggs, and then slowly add the butter, the rum and the syrup and blend it all well.

Fill the little paper cases to the 2/3rd, and put in the oven for approximately 10 minutes (watch it carefully to make sure that the top is only slightly golden).

Once you’re letting the cupcakes cooling on a rack, you can ice them.

In a bowl, mix the sugar with the lime juice and the rum, until you get a sort of thick, white paste. Unless you’re Santana and carrying a baby, you can taste it to make sure that it is to your taste - a little more acidity, a little more alcohol, you chose !

With a tablespoon, pour the paste on top of the cupcakes, and drizzle the crushed candied mint leaves on top.

Leave in the fridge to let the icing solidify.

Bottoms up !

 

Cupcakes Pina Colada

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/2371797043>

**For 25 mini cupcakes**

150 g of flour

70 g of grated coconut

8 g of baking powder

220 g of soft butter

4 eggs

180 g of caster sugar

1 tablespoon of white rum

Dried pineapple

**For the icing**

200 of icing sugar

1 tablespoon of white rum

3 tablespoons of grated coconut

Golden edible sparkles

 

Preheat the oven at 356°F.

In the bowl, mix the flour and the grated coconut, the sugar and the baking powder. Then add the eggs ONE BY ONE. Add the butter and mix slowly for 10 minutes or so. Then you can add the rum, and make sure that it goes everywhere.

Fill the paper cases to the 2/3rd and add the dried pineapple cut in tiny pieces, and put in the oven for 10-12 minutes.

In a small pan, roast the grated coconut and then put in a bowl to mix with the golden sparkles (it will look great ! and festive !)

Let the cupcakes cool and prepare the icing.

In a bowl, mix the icing sugar with the rum - if it’s too thick, you can add a couple of droplets of tepid water to make it easier to pour onto the cupcakes.

Pour approximately one teaspoon on top of the cupcakes, and then sprinkle your coconut mix !


	7. A little on the savoury side

**_End of January - February_ **

  
The day after what remains in the common memory as “Santana’s happy hours”, Kurt and Adam remember all of the discussion with frightening clarity.

The fact that it doesn’t scare Kurt as much as he thought it would is scary in itself, but to know that a seasoned (no pun intended) professional like Adam wants to work with him is a good pillow to rest his frightened mind on.

Naturally, Adam is not a fool and he suggests that Kurt comes to work at “Annaïs” for a little while, just to see if he can deal with the pressure of not cooking at his pace.

As it is, Adam has a big order for the second week of February, for the opening night of “[Eat, Drink and Be Literary](http://www.timeout.com/newyork/books/eat-drink-and-be-literary)”. He is a little bit over excited for that order, since it is opening night and the author who is going to start the big literary event is none other than J.K. Rowling herself, with a reading of her autobiography.

He can only hope that he’ll be able to catch a glimpse of the “Queen”. But in the meantime, he has to plan his menu, taste his recipes and make sure that everything is perfect. Finger foods are a must for the buffet the event planners want, and since he has to take in consideration the possibility of having vegetarian, Jewish and-or Muslim guests, he has a couple of ideas. Bringing Kurt and his unusual take on established recipes might prove even more useful than he thought when he offered him the temporary position.

The first morning Blaine drives Kurt to “Annaïs” on his bike - Adam chuckles as he watches the couple struggling against the wind through the store’s glass panes, but it seems that Blaine keeping an hand on Kurt doesn’t help them finding their balance.

He looks at his friends as Blaine chases after Kurt for yet one more kiss, before waving at Adam and going away on his bike, and he tries his best not to laugh at the way Kurt looks like he needs to compose himself before entering.

Adam is immune to their lovey-dovey-eternally engaged ways by now, but it’s always nice to get a visual.

“Good morning, chef,” Kurt says with a dorky salute as he enters, making sure that his shoes are clean of sludge and snow before joining Adam behind the counter.

“Psh, no chef,” Adam clarifies immediately, before adding with a smirk, “Boss will do.”

“Ok, boss, whateva you say boss,” Kurt replies with a weird Godfather-like accent.

Adam rolls his eyes before pulling something from the back of his chair. “Your uniform, soldier,” he says firmly, overdoing his accent - two can play the accents’ game.

Kurt unfolds the package, only to find that it’s one of Adam’s first coats - there are stains that never completely got cleaned and the material is soft under Kurt’s fingertips.

“Adam,” he starts, his voice gentle and bordering on emotional.

Adam simply smiles at him, holding up one hand.  “Don’t thank me yet”.

\---

It’s a strange mindset, the one a cook gets in their kitchen. It feels like the combination of a surgeon getting ready for an operation and an artist getting inspiration whispered in their ears by a benevolent but insisting Muse.

Well, that’s the theory, which is all good before going into battle against a potato which is trying to escape, his only weapon a peeler that seems to be possessed by an evil spirit. Kurt feels like he’s going to die and it’s only noon, which means that he’s been working only for three hours.

His feet are killing him, he has cuts all over his fingers and his nails are begging for mercy, his hair is a mess under his cap, and yet.

And yet, deep down, he hasn’t felt as good as he does now in a long time, peeling the umpteenth potato for the Gratin dauphinois ramekin Adam is trying to achieve.

That experiment does allow him to see another facet of Adam, usually so gentle and peaceful.

“Fuck it all to Hell and below!”

Kurt looks up from his mountain of potatoes to stare at his friend. Adam has a fist on the counter, the other clutching a handful of slices of potatoes to his forehead. A quick glance to the table lets him see that the ramequins are either too big for only one slice of potato or too small for two.

“If I may,” he starts, taking a step back when Adam looks up, his blue eyes furious; but Kurt knows that it’s not against him, so he goes on. “Do you really think hot dishes are the best way to go for a buffet?”

Adam groans and picks up his bottle of tea from under the counter. “I can’t make a full buffet of verrines and serving spoons - it’s so 2010 that I’m going to get killed and full meals are not going to look good, we both know that.”

Both men shiver as they remember the buffet at Rachel’s opening night - she hadn’t wanted to ask Adam to do it to make sure that he would be able to party with them, but in the end he had taken over the warmers to save her party from being a total disaster.

Kurt nods and keeps peeling the potato even if it’s obvious now that it won’t be put to use.“No, you’re right, you have to make an impact,” he comments, “like putting a twist on something they all know and like.”

Adam sips his tea, feeling a bit desperate before turning to his refrigerators and looking at the ingredients behind their glass doors, and Kurt follows his gaze. There is a magnificent tuna fillet - a tartar? With different citri? Nah, too 2018, Adam will have him skinned. And it’s not like they can just make the guests some bruschettas and  call it a day. There are beautiful peppers - provençal cakes? That could work, but it doesn’t scream “fancy” nor “whimsical”, which is what Adam has been aiming for.

Kurt remains silent, but he can feel his lips stretching into a smile as he thinks about their “happy hour” cupcakes - now that was whimsical, and definitely innovative.

“What about cupcakes?”

Adam looks up with a “what have you been smoking” look on his face. “What _about_ cupcakes?”, he asks. “It has to be a dinner, I can’t feed them cupcakes!”

“Savoury cupcakes - I know you have a bacon and olives muffin that you serve on brunches,” Kurt replies, pointing the peeler at Adam, “why not create other kinds of savoury muffins and top them with an icing of, you know, cream cheese or something?”

Adam stands up and goes to the board he has in the kitchen, quickly writing down some of his recipes, drawing blobs next to them with more scribbles and arrows. Kurt can hear him muttering about tricks and hiding in plain sight, but he keeps his attention on the peeler.

Adam finally turns to Kurt, a glint in his eyes and a smile on his face. “Just give me an hour - and stop peeling those potatoes, for Pete’s sake!”

\---

One hour later, Adam comes back from his office with four recipes that he thinks can work in the setting of the event and he gets to work, asking Kurt’s help to prep the ingredients.

Kurt is cutting tuna, slicing smoked salmon and chives, crushing hazelnuts and whisking wasabi with mascarpone without taking a break, except to drink some sweetened water on Adam’s insistence.

He feels elated, excited, amazed by his friend’s imagination and precise movements - where it takes him twenty minutes to cut four slices of smoked salmon into ribbon, it takes Adam five, and they’re more regular than his.

Adam is pulling his work-in-progress out of the fridge, and he tells Kurt to come closer.

The cupcakes look appetizing - mouth-watering, really, with the pink “frosting” on top and the fish roe glistening in the light, like some sparkling candies.

Kurt takes one at Adam’s invitation - one look at his friend tells him that if he were a dog, his tail would be wagging madly right now - and observes it more closely. Now he can see what Adam tried to achieve more clearly: if Kurt didn’t know what ingredients were used, he would think that this was a regular sweet cupcake - berries or rose, maybe.

“May I…?” he asks, pointing at the cupcake and then at himself, and Adam waves at him to go ahead.

Kurt opens his mouth wide, to make sure that he gets both the muffin and the frosting in at the same time.

The fishy taste is strong, but not in an unpleasant way: the fish roe explodes on his tongue, like a teeny tiny wave of fresh taste before the richness of the salmon hidden in the cake reveals itself. There is a sweetness in the dough, one that reminds Kurt of pine nuts, or nuts in general - he’ll have to ask the recipe - but it doesn’t make the whole thing any less savoury nor less delicious. Then the dill and the lemon zest come to light, bringing back the freshness from earlier.

Kurt looks at the cake as he munches, before taking another bite with a contented noise and Adam punches the air.

“One done, three more to go!” he yells, before scooping one cupcake for himself. “Mighty Vikings!”

\---

The three other cupcakes turn out pretty well, even if the one with the tuna requires a couple of tries, and after checking with the event’s organizers, they’re good to go.

In the weeks preceding the event, Kurt gets used to the rhythm of the kitchen, to the dynamic between the different cooks - even if Adam’s team only works part-time - and to the discovery of new muscles.

Blaine doesn’t complain about how tired he is; if anything, he takes “advantage” of it to dote on Kurt, preparing meals that can be reheated whenever Kurt feels rested enough to eat. He doesn’t feel like eating much, but that comes with the fact that he’s surrounded by food the whole day.

Kurt understands now why (and how) Adam lost so much weight in the first years of work at Annaïs - from where Kurt stands, it’s because he didn’t have a Blaine Anderson to take care of him.

His husband seems more than happy provide to all his needs: he offers massages, baths and blow jobs - not necessarily in that order - and Kurt feels like a blanket of love is wrapped around him the moment he comes home every evening.

The month turns into a couple of weeks, the weeks turn into days, and before Kurt can fully comprehend what is going on, the morning of the opening of “[Eat, Drink and Be Literary](http://www.timeout.com/newyork/books/eat-drink-and-be-literary)” dawns on him.

Being backstage for an event of this scale brings back memories from his first days in the designing house, feeling like he has to be everywhere at once.

He’s familiar with the duality of it, being the spectator to the magic as well as the magician.

Adam was frantic beforehand, but strangely being on location seems to bring him peace. Kurt can see the transformation taking place as Adam puts his “party” coat on: his shoulders are squared, his hair is just a little tousled, and there is a determination in his eyes that makes Kurt feel like this is not his friend - this is his captain.

The display is perfect: the cupcakes, the cherry tomatoes [tartlets](http://gourmandiseco.canalblog.com/archives/2013/09/09/27985590.html) and the little tumblers of gazpacho with pearls of melon create a beautiful picture, and Kurt is almost sad to see it dismembered by the hungry guests.

With Adam’s enthusiastic permission, he takes picture after picture of the gustative gems they prepared, but also of the delighted faces enjoying them.

Most of all, it’s the adults’ reaction to the cupcakes that Kurt wants to capture: their eyes filled with wonder, their childlike smiles at the sight of it - the asparagus cupcake gives the whole “savoury in disguise behind a sweet (pun totally intended) appearance” away, but it is still entertaining - the little frown as they observe from all angles and try to understand what it is they’re going to eat.

And then they take a bite and Kurt has to nudge Adam to make him see how the different ingredients, the ones that they took the time to match and cook, work their magic.

They all react the same way: after the first bite, they blink their eyes and an amazed smile stretches their lips and then they … well, they devour the thing before moving on to the next.

“Sometimes I wish it wasn’t as ephemeral,” Adam whispers as they pull out another tray from their icebox to fill the blanks left by the wave of guests, “but there is something beautiful in that too, don’t you think?”

Kurt nods eagerly, wiping his brow with a rag tucked in his apron before passing a box of tumblers to his friend. “It’s truly Art, Adam,” he replies as they survey their stations.  
“I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you, Kurt,” Adam says, his voice suddenly more serious. “If you ask me, I know that we would make a great partnership. What do you say?”

The question sounds familiar: he has been musing about it for the past weeks, talking about it with Blaine and wondering if this is the change he needed. If this is the right thing for him. If this is the right thing for them.

 

_“Maybe you don’t see it because you’re so tired,” Blaine says as he pulls the cover on top of them, “but I can tell that you’re happier, honey.”_

_Kurt yawns and snuggles closer to his husband, rubbing his cheek on his chest. “Am I?”_

_Blaine nuzzles his cheek on top of Kurt’s head. “Oh yes - your eyes are back to that magical color that I love so much. You have found your balance with that job.”_

_“I’ll,” Kurt starts, before another yawn cuts him short, “I’ll speak about it with Adam, then.”_

 

And here they are, Adam talking about the possibility of them working together before he could breach the subject himself.

“Seems like we’re on the same wavelength,” Kurt replies, holding up his hand, “partner?”

Adam takes his hand and pulls him closer for a short hug. “Partner,” he says happily before letting Kurt go.

There are still guests to feed; they have all the time in the world to talk more about it later.

*****

‘Cupcakes’ Vikings

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/2376353201>

**For 20 cupcakes**

220 g of flour

30 g of hazelnut powder

10 g of baking powder

1 pinch of sugar

salt, pepper

4 eggs

120 g of unsalted butter

100 g of salted butter

100 g of smoked salmon

3 sprigs of dill

One lemon’s zest, thinly grated

**For the ‘frosting’**

300 g of tarama

2 tablespoons of fish roe (can be flying fish, trout, salmon - you pick ! You can even mix them, the colors will look nice !)

 

Preheat the oven at 356°F.

In a bowl, mix the flour, the hazelnut powder, the baking powder, the sugar and the eggs.

Add salt and pepper, but keep a light hand - the smoked salmon will add a layer of spice and saltiness, don’t worry.

Melt the butters together and add them to the mix until the whole dough looks homogeneous.

Cut the smoked salmon into ribbons. Chop the dill thinly and grate the lemon zest.

Add all three to the mix, making sure that the salmon especially is evenly placed in the dough.

Fill the paper cases to the 2/3rd, and put it in the oven for 15 minutes.

When they’re cooked and slightly cooled, you can “ice” them : using whichever piping nozzle you want, fill a piping bag with the tarama, and let yourself be an artist on top of your cupcake!

To finish it up, sprinkle the fish roe to your liking.

 

‘Cupcakes’ Forest

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/2654552220>

**For 20 cupcakes**

90 g of whole wheat flour

110h of regular flour

1 pack of baking powder

4 eggs

4 tablespoons of skim milk

100g of melted butter

25 g of salted butter

salt, pepper

50 g of dried mushrooms (pick the one you love, I picked ceps and oyster mushrooms)

**For the icing**

200 g of Philadelphia Cheese

200 g of mascarpone

A few drops of truffle oil

1 tablespoon of hazelnut oil

40 g of crushed hazelnuts (plus a few more to munch on while you cook)

Chive

  
Preheat the oven at 356°F.

Put the mushrooms in lukewarm water, around 25 to 30 minutes, then rinse them, drain them and cut them roughly (not too small, since they’re going to cook and melt !)

Cook them in a pan with the salted butter (isn’t it a thing of beauty?)

In a bowl, mix the flours and the baking powder, then add the eggs, the milk and the melted butter. Add salt and pepper to your taste.

Mix it well for 10 minutes, and then add the cooked mushrooms.

Then, it’s like your usual cupcakes : fill the paper cases to the 2/3rd, and put it in the oven for 15 minutes.

Let them cool on a rack and it’s time to prepare the “frosting”.

In a bowl, work the Philadelphia Cheese and the mascarpone with the oils, and add the some of the chive, finely chopped.

With a piping bag, draw spirals on top of the cupcakes, and sprinkle the crushed hazelnuts and the rest of the chive on top of it all.

 

‘Cupcakes’ Tokyo Tuna

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/5187958830>

**For 15 cupcakes**

250 g of flour

1 packet of baking powder

6 g of caster sugar

4 eggs

220 g of butter

2 tablespoons of Teriyaki sauce

2 tablespoons of sesame oil

1 teaspoon of powdered ginger

2 tablespoons of black sesame seeds

150 g of fresh tuna

**Marinade :**

1 tablespoon of sesame oil

1 teaspoon of shichimi (a Japanese blend of spices and peppers)

1 tablespoon of Teriyaki sauce

1 tablespoon of mirin (Sake vinegar)

**For the frosting**

300 g of mascarpone

1 tablespoon of sesame oil

1 tablespoon of wasabi paste

2 teaspoons of powdered ginger

Fleur de sel (French sea salt)

Blond and black sesame seeds

 

The night before (or at least 4 hours in advance), take care of the tuna.

Cut it in little squares (less than one inch of length) and put them to marinate with all the ingredients. Film the recipient and put in the fridge.

Preheat the oven at 356°F.

In a bowl, mix the flour, the baking powder, the sugar, the eggs and the butter. When it’s fairly homogenous, add the sesame seeds, the ginger, the sesame oil and the Teriyaki sauce.

Get the tuna out of the fridge, drain it and cook it 30 seconds in a hot pan. Set it aside.

Place the paper cases in your mold, fill them to the 2/3rd with the dough, and then add one or two pieces of tuna.

Put it in the oven for 20 minutes, until the cupcakes are fluffy and golden.

While it gets cold, let’s work on the frosting!

Whip the mascarpone with the sesame oil, and add the wasabi and the ginger, and a little bit of the Fleur de sel.

Using a piping bag and a pretty nozzle, draw any pattern of your choice with the cream, and complete it with a sprinkle of the two kinds of sesame seeds.

 

‘Cupcakes’ Asparagus

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/5506409377>

**For 40 to 45 mini cupcakes**

250 g of flour

1 pack of baking powder

6 g of caster sugar

4 eggs

220 g of unsalted butter

1 teaspoon of Fleur de sel

Half a pack of green asparagus (you’ll need the heads for the “frosting”)

2 teaspoons of butter

**For the “frosting”**

250 g of Philadelphia Cheese

40 g of hazelnuts

A few drops of truffle oil

Salt

 

First the asparagus : OFF WITH THEIR HEADS ! And now put them aside, and work on the asparagus’ body, cutting them in little pieces (around 0.4 inches), and cook them in butter for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally to keep them slightly crunchy. Set aside and let it cool down.

Preheat the oven at 356°F and prepare your paper cases.

In a bowl, mix the flour, the baking powder, the sugar, the eggs and the butters, and when the dough seems homogeneous, add the Fleur de sel and the lukewarm dices of asparagus.

Fill the paper cases to the 2/3rd, and put in the oven for 10 to 11 minutes.

Let the “cakes” cool completely before applying the frosting.

Speaking of which …

Mix the Philadelphia cream cheese with a few droplets of truffle oil, and then add the hazelnuts that you have previously chopped (not too tiny the pieces, you want the crunch!) and add some salt to taste.

Take the asparagus head and with a mandolin, cut them in thin, thin slices (it’s hard work but totally worth it, visually speaking).

Using a piping bag, draw a beautiful, generous pattern, and add a slice of asparagus head.


	8. Yuzu Power Puffs

**_March_ **

The days that follow their “performance” are a little bit fuzzy, as far as Kurt is concerned. Between the press coverage, the praises they receive from some of the guests and the other caterers, and the private parties they’re asked to take care of, Kurt and Adam don’t have a minute to talk.

To talk about what matters now, that is.

What matters now is complicated and yet simple, Earth-shattering and yet the most natural thing to do. They have to find a way to work together, to become partners in their professional lives, to use their chemistry as friends to be successful.

At last, they are the ones closing up the kitchen and Kurt is trying out a recipe Yael, Adam’s right-hand, has taught him to make perfect puffs. The French cook is passionate and she just loves sharing the knowledge she brought with her when she left Paris, and Kurt wants to master that recipe.

Adam waits for him to finish the piping of the puffs and slide the tray in the oven to tap his shoulder. “Can we talk?”

Kurt nods, before pulling a brown paper bag from under his station, revealing two bottles of Kilkenny.

“I know it’s Irish,” Kurt says with a crooked smile, “but you know my fondness for European brews.”

“I do,” Adam says, taking a bottle. They sip their brew for a moment, enjoying the dry and sweet malty taste before Adam clears his throat.

“First of all, I wanted to thank you for helping me on ‘E.D.B.L.’,” Adam starts, his hands on the bottle to keep from flailing around. Kurt bows his head, but not quick enough to prevent Adam from spotting the pink tinge of his cheeks.

Adam never ceases to be amazed by his friend’s humility: Kurt may like the spotlight, but he has never learned how to accept a compliment with a pokerface.

“Second of all,” Adam continues, “I think we have established that we work perfectly in tandem.”

“Agreed,” Kurt replies; his cheeks are still pink but there is that determined glint in his eyes.

Before Adam can continue, someone knocks rhythmically on the door and they both turn to look at the backdoor. Adam glances at Kurt, a crooked smirk on his face.

“You told Blaine to come?” he asks and Kurt shrugs as he takes another sip of the ale.

“Just as you told Seb to come,” he replies with a wink, pulling two more bottles from his bag and putting them on the counter. “It’s too big of a decision - it involves the four of us.”

Adam shakes his head with a laugh. “See, that’s why we just have to do it,” he says, standing up to open the door and let a freezing Sebastian and a bundled up Blaine inside, “we’re on the same wavelength. And take those puffs out of the oven.”

\---

The four men “picnic” over the beers and the pastrami sandwiches Blaine has brought from home - with his special pistachio spread that makes them all moan in appreciation - while Kurt whips the eggs and the corn flour. They all stop talking when he pulls the bag of powdered Yuzu - Adam is adamant that it costs too much to risk being sprinkled around - and Sebastian rushes to Adam’s side to stay away from the heated milk. Blaine tries to hide his laughter when Sebastian claims to have bad memories linked to it, but he can’t say that he’s very successful.

“You’re doing fine on your own,” Kurt tells Adam, returning to the matter at hand, once he’s done with his pastry cream and the filled puffs are in the refrigerator. “ _Why_ do _you_ need _me_?”

“I want to stop catering,” Adam replies, taking comfort in Sebastian’s hand on his shoulder. “With all the buffets I have been doing, I have lost something that _you_ , my friend, have in spades.”

“Such as?”

“Imagination,” Blaine replies in Adam’s stead, cocking his head to the side to look back and forth between the two men. “Am I right?”

Adam bows his head in an imitation of a curtsey and then looks back at Kurt. “Your man is right,” he tells him, “all that time doing the same thing over and over again has stifled my creativity, and I want it back.”

Sebastian tries to hide his “you’re plenty creative” under a cough, and they all pretend not to hear it.

“You sound like you already have an idea,” Blaine says, dipping his fingers into what’s left of the Yuzu-flavored custard, and Adam can only nod.

“I want to turn the lab into a little café,” he starts explaining. “Reduce the size of the kitchen but not too much, to have a sitting area.”

“Tea-time, all day long?”, Kurt asks, trying to envision it.

Adam stands up enthusiastically and they all get out of the kitchen. The entrance of the store, public-side, is not very large: there is only one table, to give them a place to talk with the prospective clients and take notes. That being said, the room wouldn’t be too hard to rearrange to make it bigger. Enough for at least four - maybe five - tables with chairs? Kurt’s experience at planning fashion shows and sitting plans helps him into projecting what the room could look like and he turns to face Adam.

“It could work,” he whispers and Adam skips around Blaine to reach Kurt, putting his arm around his shoulders.

“It could, yes! And we would have enough space to come up with crazy goodies that will set the trend for all the foodists out there!”

 

Sebastian comes to stand next to Blaine while the two cooks discuss their sitting plan.

“I quite enjoy _their_ crazy goodies,” he whispers with a snort and Blaine lets two seconds pass before he starts laughing. Kurt and Adam turn to look at their husband and boyfriend, giggling like two idiots, leaning against each other for support. They give them a hard, long, judging look before walking away, towards the wall that separates the kitchen from the lobby.

“Idiot,” Kurt tells Blaine as he passes the pair, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Wanker,” Adam whispers in Sebastian’s ear, nibbling on the earlobe as he goes.

“Goodies!” Blaine and Sebastian both exclaim before dissolving into another fit of giggles.

\---

Once Sebastian manages to get his mirth under control, he joins the duo in the kitchen, where Adam is showing Kurt how to ice his puffs with a pretty yellow layer of fondant, and how to successfully apply the layer and sprinkle the sesame seeds - “or any decoration, really, it’s up to you” - in one fluid movement.

God, his boyfriend cooking is a thing of beauty.

But he’s going on a tangent - he really needs to focus. “I suppose you creative people don’t have a business plan yet,” he says, snatching a cream puff from the tray before they can stop him.

“Not yet,” Adam replies tentatively, but Kurt whips out his phone. “Actually,” he corrects, “I’ve started to build something, but it was before I talked with Adam so …,” he trails off, passing his phone to Sebastian.

Sebastian can feel himself going into “Business angel-mode”, and it’s for a good cause: Kurt’s plan is kind of messy, but it’s a fairly good basis for an actual business plan - one that would convince his board to get … well, on board, and banks too. It’s a solid plan.

When he looks up and smiles at them, Adam punches the air before launching himself at his boyfriend, pressing kisses all over his face. “My business genius,” he gushes, and Sebastian pulls him in a hug, forcing the taller man to wrap his legs around Sebastian’s waist.

“Ahem,” Blaine says, coming to stand behind Kurt and putting his hands over his husband’s tummy. Kurt grabs one hand, laces his fingers with Blaine’s and puts their joined hands over his heart.

“Like you’re one to talk, Mister I couldn’t wait for my guests to leave before starting to strip for my husband on Christmas Eemph”, Sebastian starts teasing, silenced by Adam’s lips.

“So, we _are_ doing this?”, Kurt asks and Adam unlocks his legs to stand up straight.

“We are,” he replies.

A moment passes between the two friends, heavy with emotions and all the potential of their new association.

“Now, all you need is a brand name,” Sebastian says, grabbing two more puffs from the plate and passing one to Blaine, “because you can’t keep Annaïs’ name.”

The look that passes between Adam and Kurt is not comforting, but Sebastian trusts the : if they’re smart enough to make the citrus taste as smooth and comforting as the puff he’s eating, they can find a name for their brand that will make an impact.

\--

“What about ‘Adam and Kurt’s Homemade Cupcakes’?” Adam suggests and Kurt scoffs.

“What are we, Two Broke Gays? No, and besides,” he says pointing the whip at Adam, “we don’t only make cupcakes!”

Adam sighs, drawing circles with the piping bag as he prepares the [Pavlovas](http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/43983750655). “True, my dear fellow, very true.”

For a moment, they keep working in silence, both lost in their minds.

“Truth is, _what_ do we make?” Kurt mutters, more to himself than for Adam’s benefit, but the tall man worries his lower lip as he thinks about it and presses the bag to get the very last drop of meringue dough - come on, little one, it has to be a perfect cir- ah, gotcha.

“We make little delicacies, sweet and savoury - just little somethings to nibble on, without any guilt …,” he says, looking proudly at the tray in front of him.

“What did you just say?”

Adam looks at Kurt, and there is this mad glint in his eyes, the same one that shone in them when he had come up with the idea of speculoos sprinkles on the foie gras petits fours. “Without any guilt ?” Adam repeats, trying to find what sparked Kurt’s interest.

“No”, Kurt replies looking annoyed as he waves his hand around, getting himself a nice dripping pattern of caramel buttercream. “Before that!”

Adam frowns, recalling what he said. “Little somethings to nibble on?”

“Nibble on,” Kurt repeats, a delighted look on his face.

“Nibble on”, Adam repeats himself, trying the way the words roll on his tongue before looking back at

Kurt. “You’re a genius!”

\----

Blaine exchanges a sideways look with Sebastian.

“‘Nibble on’?” he repeats, staring at the two cooks who look like they just invented a recipe to keep butter from congealing.

They’re adorable in their enthusiasm, Blaine will give them that.

“Nibble on,” Adam repeats with a firm nod and his arms crossed on his chest.

“Nibble ooon,” Sebastian trails off, looking at the ceiling like he’s tasting the name in his mouth before looking back at them, a professional glint in his green eyes. “Short, to the point … it could work,” he concludes, and since he’s the one working in advertising, that’s all the professional approval they need.

Blaine stands up and twirls to look back at them with a playful smile.

“ _If you’re hungry and alone_

_Or your stomach feels like a stone_

_Nibble o-oo-on,_ ”

The three men look at him like has lost his mind, but Blaine keeps singing, reaching for Kurt’s hand to pull him in a dance.

“ _Here the cookies are browned_

_And the coffee beans are ground_

_Nibble ooo-oon, nibble on, nibble on …_ ”

Sebastian and Adam look at them and join in their sort-of, could-be a waltz, adding their voices to the chorus with unrestrained glee.

“ _Nibble ooo-on, oh wow oh, wow oo-on ..._ ”

 

            *****

Yuzu Power Puffs

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/11945722433>

**For 30 puffs**

90 g of type 55 flour

16 cl of water (approx. 160 g)

3 g of caster sugar

3 g of Fleur de sel (French sea salt)

70 g of butter cut in pieces

15 g of powdered milk

3 whole eggs

**Filling**

50 cl of milk

2 eggs

100 g of caster sugar

30 g of flour

40 g of cornflour

1 teaspoon of dried powdered Yuzu (Kalustyan’s sells it, but be prepared !)

1 teaspoon of Yuzu juice (be even more prepared, it can get very pricey very fast !)

**Icing**

150 of fondant

Half a teaspoon of powdered Yuzu

Yellow coloring agent

Roasted black sesame seeds

 

The puff recipe works for any kind of recipe that calls for a sort of puff : creamed puffs, éclairs, …

Preheat the oven at 356°F.

In a saucepan, bring the water, butter, sugar and salt to a boil.

Add the powdered milk, mix it well and bring it to boil again. Out of the fire, add the flour and mix it well until you get a dough. Put the pan back on the dire and mix with a wooden spatula to dry out the dough.

When the dough is dry and homogeneous, put it in a bowl, and add the eggs one by one. Use a wooden spatula, and give it your whole energy!

Once the eggs are completely part of the dough, put it in a piping bag and on a silicon sheet, press - you can make long ones (for éclairs) or round one (for puffs).

Put the sheet of puffs in the oven for 30 minutes, and let them cool down on a rack.

Meanwhile, let’s take care of the filling and the icing.

In a saucepan, mix the milk and the powdered Yuzu, and warm it - don’t let it boil!

While it warms up, whip the eggs and the sugar energetically until it whitens out, and then add the two flours, and mix until it’s perfectly homogeneous. Then you can add the Yuzu juice, and mix it well.

Pour the warm milk on that blend, and mix it well until you put it all back in the pan and on a medium fire.

With a wooden spoon, never stop stirring until it gets creamy and covers the spoon. That means that the pastry cream is ready!

Let it get lukewarm, and then put it in a piping bag with a smooth nozzle. Turning the puffs, fill them with the cream. It can get tricky to see when the pastry is filled, but you’ll get the hang of it after a couple of overfilled pastries (not that anyone is going to complain about it, trust me).

For the final touch, heat the fondant in a bain-marie with the yellow coloring agent and the powdered Yuzu. Swiftly, drip the head of the puffs in it, and immediately sprinkle the black sesame seeds.

Put them in the refrigerator, and take them out at least 10 minutes before serving.

Sugar, spice, and everything nice!

 

  
Blaine’s Pastramichio sandwiches

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/3219276075>

**For each sandwich**

1 poppy seed bagel

130 g of paper-thin cut pastrami (veal or beef, your choice)

50 g of pistachio butter (just blend roasted pistachios and salt until it gets smooth and fatty and delicious)

20 g of unsalted pistachios

1 zucchini

Fleur de sel

Olive oil

A few drops of old balsamic vinegar

 

So simple and yet so good!

With a mandolin, cut the zucchini length-wise, and grill the slices in a hot pan with olive oil. Take some absorbing paper to take the extra oil out and set aside.

Roughly chop the pistachios, and lightly roast them in a pan.

Cut the bagel in 2, and toast it lightly. Spread some of the pistachio butter on each slice.

Layer up the pastrami and the slices of zucchini.

Sprinkle the chopped pistachios and a couple of drops of balsamic vinegar, with a little bit of Fleur de sel.

Add some zucchinis and a couple of slices of pastrami, and then top it with the second slice of bagel.

For it to be the bestest sandwich ever, warm it for 30 seconds before eating.


	9. Blaine's Cupcakes

**_April_ **

Blaine tries to keep his positive and supportive attitude. He knows how Kurt can get, when he launches himself at a new project: he loses himself in it, loses sight of what and who is around him. He knows that - it’s a side of Kurt that he adores, that passion and that focus.

But he can’t help but feel like he’s been set aside, like his opinion doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want to stir a fight with Kurt - he’s under enough pressure as it is -, he just wants to keep open the line of communication between them. They both know what happens when they let resentment fester between them, and he is not going to let Kurt get away with it with a pirouette, a kiss and a sweet cake. Though he won’t complain if he gets one of those.

\---

Kurt knows that Blaine is hiding something from him. He doesn’t know exactly what, but he does know his husband: Blaine has this little tell-tale pinch between his eyebrows that always appears when he wants to talk about something but isn’t sure it’s the right time to do so.

Kurt also knows that he has been entirely focused on “Nibble on” lately. They wanted to keep “Annaïs”’ space as their new base of operation, but a quick look at the plan had told them that the wall they wanted - and needed - to take down to enlarge the public space was actually a bearing wall. Besides, they also came to the conclusion that, while being close to Times Square was perfect for a caterer, a café would need a different kind of neighborhood.

Finding the perfect spot for their laboratory-café isn’t an easy feat, and while it may be the first time Kurt has to look for an actual store, he knows the three rules of investing in a property.

Location, location, location.

Their coffee table has been taken over with a giant map of the city, with different pins marking the places Kurt wants to look at more closely.

The entrance door closes, and Kurt looks up, a smile already on his face at the prospect of seeing Blaine. The smile quickly fades, though, when he takes Blaine’s whole stance.

Besides the little pinch, there is a tension in his husband’s shoulders and in his fingers.

“Is everything alright?”, Kurt asks, already trying to stand up from his kneeling position next to the table.

Blaine looks at him in the trademark Anderson “are you serious? You cannot be serious, I can’t with you” glare - Kurt has seen it many times on Blaine’s mother’s face - and as abruptly as he came in the living room, Blaine leaves to go to the kitchen.

Kurt scrambles to get to his feet, determined now to settle things with Blaine before whatever is pissing him off can fester and turn into something ugly.

Well, uglier, if the sounds of cupboards being slammed in the kitchen are any indication.

“Blaine?”, Kurt asks softly, leaning against the doorframe. “Can we talk about … whatever it is that makes you bully the boiler?”

Blaine slams the boiler on and pounds his fists against the counter, refusing to turn to look at him.“I don’t know Kurt, _can we_?”, he asks back between gritted teeth and a wave of guilt goes through Kurt, quickly silenced by a tsunami of self-righteousness.

“Are you making me pay for being busy? For finding something that I’m passionate about?”, he asks rhetorically, his voice getting progressively louder. “Would you rather have me being a sorry excuse of myself? Is this a new case of Blaine and the Pips, dearest husband?”, he mocks, but the moment the words are out of his mouth, Kurt wants to delete the whole rant.

Blaine slowly turns to face him, his jaw tight and his eyes dark with barely concealed fury.“You really think it’s an ego-trip?” he asks slowly, his voice deceptively quiet.

It’s his most dangerous tone - Kurt should know, the three other times he heard it were the one time he thought their marriage was over and the two times he thought he would have to bail Blaine out of prison for murder.

“You really, actually believe that I resent you for finding a new career and for thriving in it ?” Blaine continues, his voice breaking for a short moment, but he’s not over yet. “You actually think I’m that petty?!”

This is the explosion that Kurt had anticipated.

“I’m thrilled that you are back to yourself, Kurt”, Blaine shouts now, tears streaming down his face, “but is it really that much to ask you to consider that I exist too? That I’m not a prop in the … the staging of your life?”

Kurt can feel tears prickling his eyes, but he just can’t let Blaine blame him - he feels guilty enough about it as it is. And Kurt Hummel-Anderson has never been good with admitting his faults.

 “Of course this is all my fault,” Kurt retorts mockingly, “God forbid Blaine Anderson to be responsible for something going wrong.”

“It’s _Hummel_ Anderson,” Blaine growls, throwing his full mug in the sink, “unless you’d rather it be different.”

That stops Kurt mid-rant, and his jaw gets slack with shock.

“You … you want a - a - a divorce?” he asks, voice soft and young and - even though he hates it - vulnerable too.

Blaine sighs, his head hung low. “No, Kurt, I want a marriage,” he says softly, so softly that Kurt can almost hear the sound of his heart breaking, “and that won’t happen until you - until _we_ learn to balance everything.”

While he’s grateful for Blaine correcting himself, Kurt is still in shock and he’s trying to recover.

“You of all people should understand that this step is crucial, and that’s why I focus so - Blaine, where are you going ?”

“I need to get out before I do or say something stupid,” Blaine says, wiping his hand over his cheeks to get rid of his tears. His eyes are red, as is the tip of his nose, and Kurt aches to just take him in his arms to comfort him.

Not now though.

“I have my cell,” Blaine adds with a longing look to his husband, but as his eyes fall on the map spread on the table, he shakes his head and quietly leaves, a whispered “I love you” the last sound coming from him.

As the door closes, Kurt crouches to the ground, smothering his screams in his fists until he feels like his throat is being scratched raw.

What is he going to do, if Blaine leaves him? How dare he, abandoning him at his most fragile?

Is he really that much to blame? Blaine can get pretty self-involved, when he starts writing and composing; Kurt never complained, did he?

Then again, did Blaine ever forget to let Kurt know that he still loved him? Did Blaine ever make Kurt feel like he was living with a ghost? Like they were only roommates?

Oh God, what has he done?

\---

_The next morning_

“Wow, love, you don’t look so good,” Adam tells Kurt as they come out of their appointment with Sebastian’s colleague, followed by the lanky man himself who has decided to stay with them as they visit potential places for “N.O.” in TriBeCa.

“Gee, thanks, Crawford,” Kurt replies as he rubs his palms over his eyes.

Adam tightens his hold on Kurt’s shoulder. “You know what I mean,” he admonishes, “you look like you spent the night up.”

Behind them, Sebastian lets out a snicker, and only he can pull laughing in such a debauched way.Kurt turns his head to throw him a half-felt glare. “I wish,” he mumbles, feeling his throat closing up again.

“Trouble in Paradise?” Sebastian asks nonchalantly, but they both know him well enough to read the concern in his voice.

Kurt huffs, looking down and thus unaware of the look being exchanged between Adam and Sebastian. “Blaine is just …,” he starts, not even knowing how to begin to explain what happened the previous evening. “He resents me for spending too much time on our project,” he finally tells them and is shocked when Sebastian scoffs as he lights up a cigarette next to him.

Not by the cigarette, mind you - Sebastian’s home-made [cigarettes ](http://www.wikihow.com/Make-Your-Own-Herbal-Cigarettes)smell of cloves and lemongrass, it’s actually pretty nice - but by the derisive sound.

“Something funny, Smythe?” he asks and Adam’s eyes widen at the icy cold tone he has just used. Sebastian doesn’t seem that fazed, but he is used to Kurt talking to him in a much harsher tone anyway.

“Not particularly,” he replies slowly and Kurt stops walking.

Adam looks from one man to the other and he starts fidgeting with his scarf. “I’m hungry, all of a sudden. Do you guys want something?” he asks, spotting a pretzel vendor nearby. Anything to get out of that situation.

“I’m good,” Sebastian replies, one hand holding the cigarette to his lips and the other buried in his pocket. For any onlooker, he looks every bit relaxed, at ease and without a care in the world. For Kurt, and even more so for Adam, the tension in his shoulders and the sharp green tone his eyes are turning to are the signs that he’s anything but that.

“Kurt?”

“Not feeling particularly hungry,” Kurt replies between gritted teeth, before turning to Adam and forcing a smile on his face. “But you go, we’ll be right here.”

Looking between them, Adam gulps and then skips to the vendor, keeping an eye on the two men as he buys enough pretzels to never go hungry again.

 

“Care to elaborate?” Kurt asks as he crosses his arms over his chest. Sebastian pulls on his cigarette, slowly releasing the smoke before putting it out under the sole of his shoe.

“I think there is major case of miscommunication here,” he says slowly, in his best professional voice. “It’s not like Blaine to resent you for your success - success that has yet to fully happen, I might add.”

“Don’t you dare--”, Kurt starts, taking the two steps that separate them to get in Sebastian’s space. “I don’t need you being a gloomy bird too, shooting our enthusiasm down!”

Sebastian raises his hands in a defensive gesture. “Nothing’s farther from my mind,” he says, his voice calm and appeasing. “I just - I can tell what Blaine is going through?” he adds, the question mark obvious in his voice, and Kurt’s anger melts away like a badly executed soufflé.

It is true: Sebastian and Adam were already together when Adam changed his career and started working with Annais. True, it wasn’t as stressful as what they’re going through now, but the two situations are not that far from each other.

“I’m listening,” Kurt finally says, and Sebastian’s lips pull into a ghost of a smile.

“If I know my friend half as I think I know him,” Sebastian starts, taking a step sideway to avoid a jogger, “he doesn’t want a big gesture, or for you to stop working on Nibble on. He’s far too happy to see you getting your bearing again, am I right?”

All of Blaine’s words of support and comfort from the past months come back to Kurt in a rush and he can feel himself blushing.

“Thought so,” Sebastian says, unable to resist some good, harmless teasing. “Blaine only needs to feel loved, to know that he’s still somewhere in your mind. Really, Kurt, it’s Anderson 101.”

“ _Hummel_ Anderson,” Kurt corrects in a whisper, before looking at his friend. “And of course he’s in my mind. He’s always on my mind.”

“He needs to be reassured,” Sebastian says sharply, accenting every word.

Holy rollerblading donut, Kurt never thought he would see the day where Sebastian Smythe would be his friend and actively trying to help his relationship with Blaine.

“I just need to make him see that he’s in every decision I make,” he replies softly and Sebastian nods, before starting to hum the melody of “I’ll be watching you.”

“You’re such a creep,” Kurt adds, feeling a semi-hysterical giggle bubbling up.

“I won’t deny it,” Sebastian says with a wink, before waving at Adam to come back. “Aw, schmoops, avoiding a confrontational situation?” he teases, stealing a piece of Adam’s cinnamon pretzel.

“Each and every time, crumpet,” Adam replies with a blush on his cheeks, “each and every time.”

Kurt looks at them, and thinks. Hard. How can he reassure Blaine that he has never stopped thinking about him? That Blaine is in every decision Kurt makes for his future? No, their future?

The clogs are turning and he turns to Adam. “I need your help.”

\---

Blaine is surprised that Kurt decided to organize an impromptu Tolkien marathon at their house, but he’s not about to complain. It feels good, to have a night off - off fights, off baking and cooking - with their friends and some snacks and some bottles of beer.

“We just need your opinion on a recipe we developed,” Adam says as Kurt comes out of the kitchen with a plate of cupcakes and Blaine swallows a sigh of disappointment. The cupcakes look good, that’s for sure, but he fails to see how that’s more important than, oh, maybe, just enjoy the movie, or the evening.

He takes one from the plate and exchanges a look with Kurt. They have talked about things, mainly apologizing about their respective behavior the past night, but they’re not completely patched up yet.

There is something in Kurt’s eyes, though, a playfulness and so much love, that gives Blaine some hope that they’re not broken. Just bent.

Blaine takes a bite of the cupcake, icing and all, but it looks like he’s still more focused on the movie in front of them. Sebastian takes one too, but he keeps his eyes on the married couple. He can always tell when something is about to go down between them, and that’s about the only thing that could take his attention from that sexy Hobbit (the one on the screen, he’s over the one on the couch, thank you very much).

The moment Blaine’s eyes widen, Sebastian settles in his seat and peels back the cupcake’s paper case. He wasn’t expecting Blaine to press pause, though - that is new.

“Stopping the movie, heh ?” Kurt comments, crossing his arms over his chest.

Blaine slowly swallows before looking up at his husband with something unfathomable on his face.

Sebastian has to focus on the edible sparkles Kurt put on the icing (Adam’s influence, he just knows it), suddenly feeling like he’s looking into their private life, there is too much love in his friend’s gaze.

 _Almost_ too much.

“That,” Blaine says, pushing himself to stand up and holding the cupcake like it’s a lost Fabergé egg, “is a piece of perfection.”

Kurt looks bashful for a moment, but Sebastian can see the pride in his little smile. Secret smug salopard. (What? He needs the alliteration)

“I tried to get as close as I could to your -” Kurt starts but Blaine nods emphatically, cutting him short.“It’s my coffee order,” he completes, his lips stretching into a beaming smile and his fingers reaching for Kurt’s.

That gets Sebastian’s attention, and he looks back at the cupcake, letting the two lovebirds reminisce on whatever that particular sentence means to them. He has lost count of the number of things that make them tick.

The icing is a light brown, covered in golden sparkles, and a little piece of chocolate, shaped like a coffee bean, is strategically placed on top of it. It’s whimsical, it looks pretty and at the same time, it would give the customers the information about the main ingredient of the cupcake. Smart.

As for the cake, it looks moist and is definitely darker than your usual vanilla cupcake - interesting.

Sebastian copies Blaine and takes a wide bite of both the cake and the icing.

 His eyes open wide, translating the shock that the caffeine taste unleashes on his tongue. It’s like a perfect espresso - dark coffee but not bitter. The butter from the icing softens it, just enough to make Sebastian want for more - that’s genius, that’s what you get when you put Adam and Kurt’s brains together.

 

As usual, the cake is fluffy and light - to Kurt’s usual level of perfection - but there is a faint trace of coffee there too. It’s just a different taste than the one in the icing, and Sebastian frowns.

Adam comes back from the kitchen while he was having a miniature mouthgasm, and Sebastian turns his frown to his boyfriend.

 “What did you put in the dough ?”, he asks bluntly and Adam chuckles, carding his fingers through Sebastian’s hair. That’s when Sebastian notices that Blaine and Kurt are eating the cupcake while looking at _them_ , like _they_ are the ones being romantic fools.

It’s hilarious, actually, the way they’re eating: Blaine is still holding the cupcake, and he alternates between bringing the cake to his lips and to Kurt’s, Kurt’s fingers lightly touching his wrist when he does.

“Decaff,” Adam replies, and Sebastian looks back at him with a deeper frown. “We put decaffeinated coffee in the dough”.

“I think it’s too much,” Kurt peeps out and Adam rolls his eyes - it’s obviously a point of disagreement between the two cooks.

“I agree,” Sebastian says, taking another bite. “The coffee extract is enough, schmoops,” he adds, licking his lips as he locks his gaze with Adam’s.

Sure enough, Adam’s eyes darken as he follows the motion of his tongue on his lips, gathering the icing and the crumbs, but Sebastian is not even done before Adam leans forward to catch his lip with his.

“Okay!”, Kurt exclaims, a pink blush on his cheeks and on the tip of his ears. “Time to clean up and go home for you two! Off you go, ‘Schmoops’ and ‘Crumpet’, back to your own place!”

Adam lets go of Sebastian with a chuckle, leaving Sebastian slightly dizzy, and Blaine hides his own laugh behind what’s left of his cake.

Sebastian follows Adam out of the apartment, but he still catches Blaine asking if there is any of “his” icing left.

He doesn’t even want to know.

*****

Blaine’s Cupcakes

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/1683439858>

**For twenty or so mini-cupcakes**

110 g of flour

7 g of baking powder

110 of softened butter

90 g of caster sugar

2 eggs

3 teaspoons of Trablit coffee extract

**For the icing**

125 g of very softened butter

250 g of icing sugar

3 teaspoons of Trablit

Coffee bean-shaped dark chocolate

 

Preheat the oven at 356°F.

Mix the flour, the baking powder, the sugar and the eggs, and then add the soft butter and mix it well - whip it for a solid 10 minutes, to make sure that the dough is smooth. Then you can add the coffee extract and make sure that it’s evenly distributed.

Fill your paper cases to the 2/3rd, and put it in the oven for 10 minutes - watch over them, though, it might be a little bit less!

Once the cupcakes are colder, time for the frosting : mix the icing sugar and the soft butter together, add the coffee extract and make sure that there is no little piece of butter “untainted”.

Using a nice nozzle, fill a piping bag with the cream and decorate the cupcakes

Finish them off with the coffee bean-shaped chocolates.


	10. Macarons

**_May_ **

In the end, finding the right place was not as difficult as Kurt and Adam expected. They quite literally stumbled upon it after a disappointing meeting, after the real estate agent left them.

It feels like the store had been waiting for them, with the piece of cardboard announcing “To sell” floating in the light breeze. Naturally, they didn’t take it on a whim: they brought their respective partners and their own business angel to see the premises. But the look of pure wonder on Sebastian and Blaine’s faces, along with the delighted smile on Sofia’s, is enough for them to know that they found it.

They _found_ “Nibble on.” Now all they need to do is bring it to life - and make it as successful as they know they can be.

\---

“Warm and comfy and homey,” Kurt asks, holding up his swatches of light oak and beige paint, “or cold and fancy and bold statement-y?” he adds, holding up the swatches of dark grey paint and ebony.

Adam closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before holding his hand up to get a better look at the swatches.

“It doesn’t have to be one or the other,” he mutters and Kurt shuffles the other swatches in his frustration.

“We have to make a decision,” he insists, and Adam nods.

“No, I know that,” he hurries to answer, taking in Kurt’s expectant look, “but what I meant is that it doesn’t have to comfy or fancy.”

Kurt frowns before looking at the swatches Adam selected. The color he picked is subtle, a dark grey that manages somehow to be warm without being too bold a choice.

Suddenly, Kurt pulls his sketchbook and his pencil case from his bag, and flips a couple of pages before finding the one he was looking for.

A couple of nights before they started playing with fonts to make their own logo, and they managed to do something professional and fun - they’re pretty proud of themselves - but it’s still in black and white.

Kurt opens the case and lets a couple of pastels roll on the table between them. Adam catches up on his thought process and spreads the swatches on the table. They quickly take out the blue and the green - not good colors to mix with food - and the little sticks remaining on the table are a pale yellow, an orange and a …

A deep, pinkish red, reminding them both of a plump cherry just bitten in the middle of the summer, of cranberry juice being poured in a jug and making the ice cubes and the berries tinkle against the glass.

Just looking at the color makes them hungry, which can only be a good sign. Kurt takes the piece of chalk between his fingers and gets closer to the different swatches.

The brown looks too much like chocolate - too cliché, they both agree on that.

The light beige is completely overwhelmed by the richness of that of that burgundy, and they both can tell that it would be boring in the long run.

The ebony wood feels too dark for Kurt - “we’re feeding people, not hiding a Dungeon in the kitchen!” - while the oak inspires Adam a few chosen “Gryffindor” comments that rule it out. And then there is the bluish grey they had rule out because it was too cold - the moment Kurt brushes the pastel next to it, it feels like they’ve hit the jackpot.

“Light grey for the floor,” Adam says, already flicking through a catalogue he has been reading religiously in the past few days, while Kurt looks at an Ikea catalogue on his phone.

“A long table in the same dark grey as the shop window”, he adds and they both reach for an high-five. “Burgundy elements like color spots.”

“And for the wall separating the lab from the room,” Adam says, but Kurt scrunches his nose.

“Too dark and bloody,” he corrects and a silence falls over them, until they both look up from their reading materials.

“Burgundy for the door and big glasses on each side!” Kurt exclaims, nearly sending his phone flying in his excitement.

Adam chuckles and shakes his head. “Not the whole wall, Kurt,” he chides gently and Kurt stops himself just before going for a full-on pout. “Too expensive!” Adam protests, “but we can have windows giving a view of the kitchen from the middle of the wall.”

Kurt taps his chin with his phone and frowns at Adam thoughtfully. “Like a breakfast counter made of glass?”

“Precisely,” Adam says and they both get lost in thought for a moment. The whole thing is taking shape in front of them and it’s more glorious than they expected.

Kurt is almost frightened by how everything slides into place, now that he’s focusing on balancing everything out: his goal and his home-life, his visions and Adam’s, it’s all actually coming together.

It excites and scares him in equal measure, and in this weird combination, there is only one thing that can appease him.

\---

A low moan bounces off the walls of the room as Kurt tightens his hold on Blaine’s torso, spooning him as he fucks him slowly, as only this position allows, and Kurt isn’t sure who made that sound.

Making love to Blaine has always been Kurt’s haven of peace, his little bubble away from the rest of the world, and it only adds to the new feeling of connection that exists between them since their last big fight.

Blaine pants next to him, his hands grasping Kurt’s over his chest and belly in little spasms, and Kurt takes his cues from them, thrusting harder or slower depending on Blaine’s reaction.

His nose is buried in Blaine’s curls, and Kurt takes in his husband’s scent: call it job conditioning, he can’t help but associate different food ingredients with Blaine. There is coffee, of course, but also lemongrass and ginger, something spicy like cinnamon or nutmeg too.

It makes Kurt hungry, hungry for more and he thrusts his hips against Blaine’s ass harder, using his hold on him to push him against his own body with as much force as he dares.

Kurt presses a kiss to Blaine’s head, petting his belly before reaching for Blaine’s leaking cock, lubricated with a generous amount of precum.

“Come for me, cutie”, he whispers, voice broken with lust and emotion in equal parts, “come on, Bee, that’s it …”

With a tilt of his head that almost hits Kurt in the nose, Blaine’s whole body archs as he comes all over Kurt’s hand with a silent shout, his ass clenching around Kurt and pulling his own orgasm out of him.

They’re both panting as Kurt pulls Blaine out of the wet spot on their sheets, kicking them as best as he can and Blaine wiggles against him in a weird backward hug.

Kurt pulls out to throw the condom away, and Blaine makes grabbing motions at him as soon as he makes his way back to their bed. “You’ve gotten so strong,” Blaine says with a happy sigh, nuzzling Kurt’s shoulder as they lie face to face under the covers.

Kurt cocks one eyebrow at him. “Pardon?”

“Since you cook all the time, you’ve developed,” Blaine explains, reaching for Kurt’s biceps, “quite the strength in these.”

Kurt’s eyes follow the path of Blaine’s fingers on his arm before looking back at him. “Excuse me,” he says, playfully offended, “but I’ve always had muscled arms.”

Blaine giggles, leaning forward to kiss the muscle he has just caressed. “I‘m not saying that you haven’t,” he says, looking up at Kurt through his damn eyelashes, “but it’s getting impressive.”

Kurt snorts, poking at Blaine’s arms in retaliation. “Like you can talk, Mr. Balboa.”

Blaine’s laugh fills the room, followed by a happy squeal when Kurt lounges to kiss him silent.

\---

While the painters start working on their space, Kurt and Adam work on answering to the last orders for Annais in the little shop, building their own clientele from there.

When Ms. Kotek, Adam’s biggest client in the Tri-state area, comes in to ask for a pyramid of macarons, Kurt is convinced that he looks like a pack of deers caught in headlights. Adam offers to teach him on the spot, but Kurt remembers seeing something in his mother’s recipes book and only asks for Adam or one of his associates’ to mentor him when he tries it.

Flicking the book open, Kurt brushes his fingers against Elizabeth’s round handwriting.

 

“ _Now, macarons. Macarons are not to be taken lightly. They are delicious, they look incredible, like pieces of jewellery when executed perfectly, but they are the ultimate challenge. Take your time, pick the right ingredients, and trust your instincts while following the recipe._ ”

With a chuckle - who knew his mother could predict ‘Ratatouille’’s motto? - Kurt starts reading while rolling up his sleeves.

As he sieves the almond flour and the icing sugar, Kurt loses himself in the motion of the powder in the round sifter. It looks like a tambourine, but Kurt is not going to sprinkle that very expensive almond flour all over himself by being an idiot only because he feels like tapping it. On the other hand, nothing forbids him from accomplishing his task while humming Dylan’s “Tambourine man”, to Adam’s delight.

“What color do we need for the order?” he asks Adam as he weighs the eggs white to the gram.

As his mother wrote next to the different ingredients, “precision is key”.

“Hm, we need…,” Adam replies, elongating the vowel as he pulls his notebook from his apron pocket, “beige, red and green. I already have blue and orange ones.”

Kurt looks up from the sieve, cocking his head to the side. “It’s almost a full rainbow,” he comments and Adam blinks a couple of times.

“I didn’t even notice,” he says with a laugh as he pulls a large box from the freezer. “Now, let me see your macaroning work,” he adds, coming to Kurt’s side with the bowl of meringue in his hands.

Kurt takes a deep breath - he has practiced the motion time and time again already, but this is the final test. As he starts using the plastic spatula, an analogy forms in his head: just like when he makes love to Blaine, he has to find the balance between strong and gentle, firm and caring with his gestures.

Kurt can feel himself blushing, but he powers through, using the image of his husband’s body under his hands to blend the whole thing together, binding the ingredients to form a shiny, homogeneous dough.

“I knew it,” Adam exclaims, clapping his back and bringing him back to Earth, “flawless!”

“Really?” Kurt asks, hope lacing his voice.

“I wouldn’t say it otherwise,” Adam replies with a crooked smile, his hand clasping Kurt’s shoulder. “You can be proud of yourself,” he adds, and Kurt swallows back the emotional bubble stuck in his throat, pulling his friend into a hug.

“Thank you,” he whispers, and Adam remains silent, simply rubbing circles on his back before stepping away.

“And now, it’s piping time!” he says joyfully, breaking the sentimental charm.

Kurt groans as he pulls a plastic piping bag from the roll on the counter. “Let’s do this,” he says tiredly, earning himself a boisterous laugh from Adam, who has already skipped back to his work.

\---

The counters are entirely covered in perfectly round and shiny macarons, but in Kurt’s opinion, there is something missing.

“Something is missing,” he says out loud, and Adam hums, his hands on his hips.

“I know,” he replies, twisting his mouth into a grimace. “But what?”

“Beats me,” Kurt admits sheepishly. “The colors are beautiful, the boxes will look amazing, but -”

“But it lacks some … relief?” Adam supplies and Kurt bites his lower lip as he considers their situation, just before snapping his fingers.

“Yes!” he suddenly yells, reaching for a mint and coffee macaron.

“What are you do- oh,” Adam starts asking, watching as his friend pulls a box out of the cupboard, reaching for the crystallized mint leaves and the coffee-bean shapes chocolates. “Oh!” he exclaims as Kurt simply puts a leaf on top of the green macaron.

“See what I mean?” Kurt asks, tilting the leaf to make it prettier. “I just don’t know how to make it stick without damaging the crunch of the shell, though,” he adds, a frown on his face.

Adam’s eyes are wide, wider than Kurt has ever seen them, and he plants a kiss on Kurt’s forehead.

“You, my friend, rock !” he exclaims, rushing to his “toolbox” to pull a little bottle. “For the mint leaves we can simply add some sparkles,” he rushes to say and Kurt starts going through the different jars of edible sparkles, before picking the green and the silver ones to show Adam.

“Yes, definitely a mix of the two,” Adam confirms before turning to the coffee bean-shaped chocolates.

“Now, as for you wee devils,” he says as he crouches to have his eyes at the counter’s level, “I need something a bit more … more …”

“More?” Kurt says with a huffed laugh and Adam flips him off without looking at him.

“Shhh, I’m thinking”, Adam mutters and Kurt has to suppress the urge to say something about how this might hurt when Adam straightens up.

“I think I have it.”

\---

The look on their client’s face as she takes in the two-toned macarons, with the little piece of chocolate resting on top of them, and the brilliant green macarons, looking like gems from Cartier or Tiffany’s, tells them everything they need to know.

If they keep their chemistry going, “Nibble on” is going to be a bigger hit than they expected.          

 

*****

Macarons

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/3807697696>

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/5701281846>

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/11914395784>

**For 50 macarons (100 shells)**

250 g of almond flour (it needs to be really well ground and dry, it will cost a little bit more than the one you can find at your supermarket but it will be worth it)

250 g of icing sugar

90 g of egg whites (approximately 3 eggs white but, BUT weigh them! If your eggs are a little bit bigger you’ll only need two and a half.) at room temperature

90 g of eggs whites (yes, another 90 g, you’re not hallucinating)

50 g of caster sugar

200 g of caster sugar

70 g of water

Pigments (powder)

 

Take the 90 g of eggs white, put the pigments in it and let  it  infuse.

Make sure to sieve the almond flour and icing sugar very well and set aside.

Put in the bowl the other 90 g of eggs whites and whisk them. Mix half of the 50 g of caster sugar with the eggs, keep whisking then add the other half of the 50 g of sugar. Once the eggs start forming peaks, let the blender do the work for you! Set the blender on an average speed and let’s keep going.

In a pan, pour the 200 g of caster sugar and the 70 g of water, mix and put the fire on high heat.  We want a 244°F  temperature (also called “boulé” because if you take a little of the mixture between two fingers, it will form a little ball, or “boule” in French)

Once the boulé is ready, set the blender on the highest mode, and progressively pour the sugar to bind the meringue. Continue to whisk until the meringue is cold: you’ll get an italian meringue, very firm, smooth and shiny.

With a spatula work the meringue up on the bowl’s side.

Add to the meringue: half of the almond flour and icing sugar preparation, then add the egg whites and the pigments, and the other half of the almond flour and icing sugar preparation, mix.

Once the preparation is homogeneous we need to ‘macaron’:  continue to mix the dough with a spatula and flatten it on the side, we want to have a very smooth dough!

Now, we’re going to need a pastry bag, a 10 mm (or 0.4 inch) round nozzle and baking trays with silicone  sheets.

Put the dough into the pastry bag and make small circles of dough on the silicon sheet. Make sure to let  approximately one inch in between each circle!

Make sure to slap the trays to clear out the dough from air bubbles, it’s very important!!

Once your trays are ready, we need to let it crust (at least 20 minutes and up to one hour: the dough must not stick to your finger when you touch it)

While the dough is crusting, preheat your oven at 302°F

Once you’re done with crusting your dough, put your tray in the oven for 10 minutes and tada! You’ll see the collarettes appear.

Let the shells cool before you do anything else with it!

You can freeze the shells until you use them - meaning, you can prepare a lot of them, in different colors, and then you’ll be ready to face any order coming your way!

 

**For the filling with the cherries.**

300 g of white chocolate in small cubes

150 g of  sour cream

Frozen Morello cherries (around 300g - around 50 cherries)

Red coloring

You can use red or purple shells for that little gem.

 

Let’s start with the Morello cherries.

Cut 25 of them in two and let half of them dry on paper towel.

Take the other half and blend them. Put the blend in a pan on low heat for 15 minutes.

Meanwhile make the sour cream boil before pouring it on the white chocolate to melt  it. Add the morello cherries blend that you’ve been cooking in the sour cream and white chocolate preparation and the food coloring. Stir.

Put the filling to cool in the fridge for an hour and a half . If the preparation is still liquid after this time, mix it with your blender.

Put the filling in the pastry bag with a 8 mm (0.3 inch) nozzle.

Put a thin layer of filling on a shell and add half of a morello cherry on it, then put another thin layer of filling above it. Add another shell above the filling to form your macaron!

Let the macarons cool in your fridge for 24 hours.

 

**For the “Chocoffee” filling, you’ll need:**

200 of  softened butter

350g  of icing sugar

1 teaspoon of  coffee extract

200g of dark chocolate (melt in a bain marie)

50 coffee beans

You have to use beige shells.

 

Nothing too complicated.  

First, prepare the buttercream. Mix together the icing sugar, the butter and add the coffee.

Fill a shell with the coffee buttercream  and put the two half of the macaron together.

Dip one side of the macaron into the melted dark chocolate (be careful not to burn yourself!) and add a coffee bean-shaped chocolate on top before letting the macaron cool on a silicone sheet.

 

**For the After Eight filling:**

250g of dark chocolate

25cl of sour cream

A few drops of mint extract (be careful, the extract might be strong and you don’t want your filling to taste too minty. )

Green shells do the best effect, but you can play with your customer’s eyes and use a different color, or mix a green and a brown shell. Go crazy !

 

Make the sour cream boil and pour it on the chocolate cut in cubes.

Stir it so the filling will be smooth and add the few drops of mint extract.

Stir again and put half of a teaspoon on a shell before putting another shell above.

Let the macarons cool in your fridge, they will taste much better the day after.


	11. Red Velvet

**_June-July_ **

“Ready, I’m ready to go, I was born ready, let’s do this! Yes!”

Blaine laughs as he attaches his cookie cufflinks. “Hold your horses, Princess Ana,” he says, his tongue poking out of his mouth as he tries to attach the second one - always more difficult with his right hand - and Kurt smacks him on the shoulder.

“Only one person is authorized to call me Princess, and only if I did something wrong,” he warns his husband with a poke. “Besides, I’m allowed to be a little wee bit excited.”

Blaine looks up from his wrist, eyes wide as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “A little wee bit?” he repeats, bewildered. “You haven’t slept in two days!”

Kurt turns to face him, tying his brand new apron with _his_ logo embroidered in - the burgundy really looks good on the dark grey - and frowning at his husband. “We’re opening, Blaine, of course I can’t sleep!”

Blaine lifts one eyebrow and Kurt backpedals a little. “It’s the energy of it, but I’ll get some rest afterwards, I promise.”

Blaine’s frown melts away and he comes to hold him, his hands and his chin hooked on top of Kurt’s shoulders as they both look into the mirror.

“A week, just for the two of us,” he whispers in Kurt’s ear, his breath raising goosebumps on Kurt’s neck and forearms. “I’m going to keep you in bed all week.”

“Aren’t you going to get tired of me?” Kurt jokes, nuzzling his cheek against Blaine’s hand.

“Never - I would gladly spend the rest of my days in bed with you,” Blaine retorts, his voice darker as he presses a kiss just under Kurt’s ear. “But for now, it’s show time.”

\---

“Adam, get out of there.”

Sebastian’s voice is stern and uncompromising, but Adam is just not ready. Not ready to take yet another leap of faith, not ready to face the whole crowd their opening is apparently attracting, not ready to put the beautiful apron around his waist.

Just. Not. Ready.

“Schmoops.”

Adam leans a little bit more against the door and whines.

“Come out so I can blow you under your apron and we can go.”

Excellent idea.

\---

Thanks to all of their friends heavily advertising the opening of “Nibble on”, and Adam’s former clientele dutifully following him in his new location, the opening night is a success. Red velvet has taken the place of the red carpet, and there is nothing left of all the delicious finger foods and sweets Adam and Kurt have slaved over in the days leading to the event.

Now that it’s over, they’re in their beautiful cherry kitchen, sitting on the counters with their “first circle” of friends, their adopted family, and they are basking in happiness. Blaine is busy cooing over little Matteo, strapped over Dani’s chest while Santana shows off her rediscovered waistline, and Sebastian is glued to Adam’s side.

Kurt is looking at them all, all the people who have stood by his side, who have supported him while he was getting his life back together, and he feels like he has done something right.

There is a smear of chocolate on Rachel’s lips, some sparkles catch the light on Sebastian’s fingers whenever he starts defending his opinion in the discussion - along with the beautiful cufflinks he has on, Kurt thinks the two Dalton alumni looked for them together - and Blaine just looks at him with so much pride …

Food really is a way to show his love, and if the emptiness of the plates is any indication, Kurt and Adam have given out a lot of love tonight.

\---

“Now that we’re on”, Adam starts a couple of days after the opening, “we need to make a brand for ourselves. Sure, we have a clientele, but we need to make sure that every foodist in New York and around knows about us!”

Kurt follows him with his eyes as Adam marches around the kitchen and he stifles a laugh.

“That’s quite the pep talk, ‘Dam,” he simply comments and Adam twirls to face him, hands splayed on the counter next to the box Kurt is busy organizing and labelling.

They really left the kitchen in a down right mess after cooking up a storm. And if there is one thing that Kurt knows about business - any business -, it’s that tidiness is key to success. Hence the labelling of everything, as he listens intently to Adam’s “battle plan”.

“It is a war, Kurt,” Adam tells him, deadly serious. “You have no idea how many talented chefs had to close in the past year alone. While Rocco may have slightly exaggerated the numbers of failing restaurants -”

“Yeah, 9 out of 10 seemed a bit sketchy.”

“- I’m fairly certain that the proportion is still pretty close to 50 to 60% failing places over a yearly course.”

Kurt freezes. “It _is_ a war zone, then.”

Adam observes Kurt before coming to stand next to him, handing his friend the little jars for him to label. “It is,” he says quietly, as if talking to a skittish animal, “but we have an advantage over our opponents, young padawan.”

Kurt lifts one eyebrow at Adam quoting Star Wars - now that’s a disturbance in the Force if he knows any - but waits for that piece of information.

“We have each other, man,” Adam says, a lopsided smile on his face, blue eyes twinkling in the light that filters from their window. “We have each other to lean on if we feel like giving up. We have my knowledge of the market and of the tradition, we have your crazily imaginative brain, and we have our NYADA education.”

Kurt scoffs at that. “What does NYADA have to do with anything food-related?”

Adam puts his arm around Kurt’s shoulders to pull him into a hug. “It taught us how to survive in a shark-like environment without losing ourselves.”

Kurt ponders this and a soft smile stretches his lips as he raises his bottle of water. “Cheers to that,” he offers and Adam picks up a little jar to toast back.

“Cheers to that!”

\---

The first week, Kurt feels like his body is rebelling. Like new muscles have appeared, ones that have never been solicited before.

He barely manages to stand on his feet, but he can’t deny that he’s deliriously happy - if he’s that tired, it’s because they have to bake and cook almost constantly, since the clients are devouring their stock like a swarm of locusts.

As Blaine makes Kurt sit on the couch, the apartment filled with the smell of the meal he prepared, Kurt tries to explain that it’s not the same kind of fatigue that he felt before all of this adventure started.

“Oh, I can tell,” Blaine says softly, brushing Kurt’s hair away from his forehead. “If you were a woman, I would tell you to get a pregnancy test.”

“Huh?”

“You’re glowing, darling,” Blaine explains with a giggle.

“That’s just because I need to shower,” Kurt retorts derisively and Blaine flicks his temple lightly. “What? I do!”

Blaine scoffs and helps Kurt get into a seating position. “Then go get clean.”

There is something in Blaine’s voice that makes Kurt perk up. “Very very clean?”

Blaine nods silently, pulling his linen shirt over his head as he walks away, and Kurt never took a faster shower in his life.

\---

And then it starts slowing down. Not alarmingly so: they have their regulars, coming in each and every day to get their fix of sweetness.

But they start relying on their stock, which allows them to experiment a little bit more too. Actually, they’re in the middle of such an experiment (which is turning sour, Goodness gracious what possessed them to try making a savoury cookie with eggplants?!), when the bell above the door rings.

Kurt comes out of the kitchen and smiles at the newcomer. “Welcome to Nibble on, what would you want to nibble on?”

Adam’s idea, and Kurt feels in an accommodating mood. The young woman standing in front of him brushes a long strand of blue hair from her face and looks at him. Now that’s the epitome of desperation if Kurt has ever seen one.

“I need - I need something comforting and fattening and sweet,” she replies, voice strained - but not enough to hide a faint trace of an accent - as she comes closer to the counter.

For now, Kurt focuses on her apparent discouragement - his varied experience with his former roommates and colleagues of the female variety tell Kurt that this could be either a breakup or a menstruation situation - and he looks at what they have that could fit the bill.

“We have our chocolate gooey cookie,” he offers but she scrunches her nose before blushing and muttering a polite refusal. “Or our Chocoffee macarons?”

She twists her mouth into a sad smile. “I’m not a big fan of macaron, but thank you. Can I, um, just get a cup of warm chocolate?”

Kurt feels like there must be something he - they - can do and nods firmly.

“Please, sit down,” he offers, starting the warm drink machine they have invested in to warm up the milk.

“And if you have a moment to spare, let me find something that will fit your needs?” he adds, throwing a warm smile in the mix. The moment she smiles back with a pink blush on her neck, Kurt knows that he has gained a moment to think properly.

\---

Chocolate is a must, if Santana, Dani and Rachel are good samples of the feminine needs. Hence Kurt pulling all the chocolate they have in their cupboard: milk, bittersweet, white, cocoa powder and cocoa nibs are on the table, under Adam’s careful eyes.

“Want me to go back for service while you create?” he offers, half-jokingly, and Kurt shakes his head.

“Nope,” he says, popping the end of the word, “I need your expertise here. She can stay alone for a moment, I put mini-marshmallows in her drink.”

Adam leans forward to look through the window at their client, and he quickly analyzes the situation. “Ok I can see the need for chocolate,” he simply comments, before turning back to Kurt. “We need extravagant too.”

“Decadent,” Kurt corrects him with a glint in his eyes, “generous, comforting. A treat that will wrap her - and quite a number of clients, I’m sure - in a cocoon of chocolate.”

“That’s quite an overdose of chocolate you’re planning here, though,” Adam tells him, juggling with the box of cocoa nibs and making it rattle between his hands.

“A Chocoverdose,” Kurt snickers and Adam huffs out a laugh.

“Blaine is rubbing off on you,” he mutters, raising a hand to stop Kurt when he opens his mouth to comment. “Back to business - what do you have in mind?”

Kurt taps his fingers against the counter before skipping to the dairy fridge. “There is only one thing that can give creamy, sweet, moist and decadent,” he muses aloud, “and that’s a cupcake.”

Adam frowns, his fingers on his face. “The white chocolate won’t melt properly if you put it in the oven with the dough,” he warns and Kurt nods slowly.

“In the icing?” he asks, pulling the pack of butter out of the fridge to let it soften in the open air - with the warm temperature settling over New York, it will only take a minute before it softens to the right consistency - followed by the box of eggs and the pack of flour.

“Too sweet, if you put it in the icing alone,” Adam replies, but he snaps his finger. “Unless …”

“Unless?”

“Unless the white chocolate is balanced with something else.”

A picture starts forming in Kurt’s brain, like a dress composed of layers to balance the richness of each material, each layer complimenting the other to form a perfect ensemble. Alexander McQueen’s ruffled dresses are on the forefront of his mind - particularly the [Sarabande](http://blog.metmuseum.org/alexandermcqueen/dress-sarabande/) one, with the extravagance and the sheer fun of it.

“We have to hide the white chocolate under a layer of something even more crazy,” he whispers and Adam beats a rhythm on the cupboard like a mad drummer.

“Buttercream is the answer you’re looking for,” he spouts dramatically, throwing the sugar at Kurt who, incredibly, catches it mid flight.

“You’re insane,” Kurt laughs as he starts their robot to mix the ingredients.

\---

“Honey, I’m hooooooh my god what is that!”

Kurt smiles as he lowers the fire under the pasta. His back is to the kitchen’s entrance, but he doesn’t need to look at Blaine to know that he saw the little plastic box he left conspicuously on the coffee table.

“Welcome home, baby,” he calls back, pulling a spaghetti from the boiling water.

He’s actually slurping it when Blaine joins him on the other side of their breakfast counter, the box in his hand.

“What have you done, Mister Hummel,” he sing-songs softly, putting the cupcake under the light to make the golden sparkles shine, but the soft spiral of the chocolate buttercream cannot hide the luscious way the white chocolate ganache seems to dribble down the side over the chocolate cake.

“What can I say,” Kurt replies nonchalantly as he takes the pasta out of the water and pours it into the pan of tomato sauce next to it. “I’m a genius - hey, no, nono,” he cuts himself short, reaching for Blaine’s wrist as Blaine starts opening the box. “That’s for dessert.”

A glint settles in Blaine’s eyes but he does close the box, setting it aside.

“Too bad,” he says with a pout.

Kurt lifts his eyebrows high in question as he serves them two bowls of pasta.

“I had other plans for dessert,” Blaine adds, licking his lips.

Kurt’s eyebrows are now reaching for his hairline.

“A generous slice of genius - with cream.”

 

      *****

Red Velvet Cupcakes

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/19052747746>

**For 25 cupcakes**

330 g of sieved flour

270 g of caster sugar

17 g of baking powder

6 eggs

250 g of softened unsalted butter

1 yogurt

2 tablespoons of powdered cocoa

1 teaspoon of red coloring gel (the Christmas Red by Wilton is perfect)

25 chips of white chocolate from Valrhona

50 g of candied berries (by default, you can use dried cranberries or dried cherries)

**For the icing**

300 g of Philadelphia Cheese

500 g of icing sugar

2 teaspoons of vanilla extract

Candied pearls

Edible red sparkles

 

Preheat the oven at 356°F.

Mix the flour, the sugar, the cocoa and the baking powder in a bowl. Add the eggs and the butter, and start whipping.

When it starts looking homogeneous, add the yogurt and fold it into the mix.

Add the coloring gel slowly, mixing well before adding more to get the proper color.

Put paper cases in your pan, and fill them to the 2/3rd with the dough. Add a chip of white chocolate and some candied fruits. You can push them in the dough or just cover it all with just a little bit of dough.

Put it in the oven for 15 to 18 minutes (depends on the strength of your oven !) and let them cool on a rack while you take care of the icing.

Whip together the cheese, the vanilla and the icing sugar, and use your most beautiful nozzle to draw a perfect flowery pattern on top of your cupcakes.

Add the pearls and the sparkles for a maximum “wow” effect ;)

 

  


Chocoverdose cupcakes

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/2978312150>

**For 40  mini cupcakes**

220 g of flour

220 g of softened butter

180 g of caster sugar

4 eggs

9 g of baking powder

25 g of cocoa powder

20 g of chocolate nibs

**For the white chocolate ganache:**

150 g of white chocolate

80 g of sour cream

**For the chocolate buttercream:**

150 g of softened butter

250 g of icing sugar

100 g of bitter chocolate

25 g of cocoa powder

 

Pre-heat your oven at 356° F.

In a bowl, mix together the flour, the cocoa powder, the sugar and the baking powder, then add the eggs one by one and half of the butter.  Mix slowly for 10 minutes.

Add the rest of the melted butter and mix.

Put the paper cases in a small tarts mold.

Fill the cases up to the two-third, bake for 10 minutes.

Set aside to cool before icing them.

For the icing, first thing first: the white chocolate ganache.  Put the sour cream in a pan and heat it, then pour it on the chocolate cut in small cubes.  Stir and let it cool before icing the cupcakes with it.

Finally the buttercream. Mix with the blender the softened butter and the icing sugar, then add the sifted cocoa. Melt the chocolate in a bain marie and let it cool, then add the chocolate to the cream.

With a pastry bag draw a pattern on top of your cupcakes and spread some glitters all over them!


	12. Epilogue

**_September_ **

When he thinks about where he was a year ago, Kurt starts wanting one of those time-travel machines to tell his past self that he’s going to be okay. That he’s going to find his calling. That Blaine’s love is only going to increase once Kurt himself will be back in his own skin.

Okay, so maybe he changed quite a few things on his way to himself. He changed his career, he changed his universe …He changed his way to move around the city too.

Blaine’s reaction to Pav (both the motorcycle and the nickname) was exhilarating, but every now and then, when Kurt manages to take his afternoon on a Saturday, Blaine comes to get him and they both hop on the bike to ride to Coney Island. Sure, it’s no Road 66, but the feeling of Blaine behind him, the feeling of his arms around him, the wind on his face and in his hair - it’s more invigorating than any energy drink.

And then there is “Nibble on”. At first, Kurt was afraid that once the first burst of energy passed, he would get tired of it and just give up. He never spoke about his fears, but he never tiptoed around them in the privacy of his mind. They all appear to be for nought now, because Kurt feels like he has just removed an itty bitty piece of the first layer of possibilities the shop has to offer.

Ever since Ursula, the “Chocoverdose” client, revealed herself to be a columnist for several food magazines and temporarily in the middle of a bad breakup (and her periods, very bad combination), “Nibble on” is getting quite the reputation. Not just for the quality of their food, but for the quality of the owners’ hearts. Obviously, the young woman had been charmed by Kurt and Adam’s willingness to do something for her, even though she was a stranger. Accent on the past tense, since Ursula and her blue hair - and her raucous laughter - are a fixture in the shop these days.

More importantly, ever since the creation of their best-seller cupcake, Kurt feels like they may have found the little detail, the concept that is going to make them stand out amongst the rest of the cupcakeries and bakeries in New York.

He just needs to talk about it with Adam before truly launching himself at it.

\---

The whole gang is assembled in Rachel’s kitchen, everybody baking a variation of Kurt’s mother’s biscotti recipe with Esther, when Kurt finally has the time to talk to Adam. The two of them are on Rachel’s balcony over Bryant Park, and Kurt is fidgety enough for Adam to know that there is something coming.

“Just spit it out,” he finally says when Kurt’s fidgeting is threatening to spill the entire content of the mug over his carefully picked outfit.

“When you said that we needed to rise above the fray,” Kurt replies instead of voicing what’s truly on his mind, “what did you mean exactly?”

The question takes Adam by surprise and he has to take a moment to think it over.

From the open window they can hear the sound of Esther’s delighted laughter and Matteo’s babbles and they both smile before turning to face each other once more.

“I meant that any successful business stays successful because they have something different. A spark that makes them special.”

“Like a note that turns a song into a hit,” Kurt adds, and there is nothing even remotely questioning in Kurt’s voice.

“Like a signature that turns a piece of paper into a piece of art,” Adam replies, smiling over the brim of his own mug.

“That’s what I wanted to talk about,” Kurt says with a deep intake of breath. “I think we need to have signature dishes - or a signature concept at least.”

Adam smiles proudly at his friend. “Something tells me you already have an idea of a concept.”

Kurt blushes, but when he looks up, Adam can only see fearless determination.

“Elegant pastries, turned into cupcakes and macarons,” he finally says, vocalizing his idea for the first time since it crossed his mind.

“I’ll … need to think about it,” Adam replies with a soft, comforting smile.

“Of course!” Kurt exclaims, suddenly aware that he might have imposed a little bit too much. “I’m sorry if I’m taking over,” he adds as they walk back inside.

“Nonsense,” Adam replies, knocking their shoulders together, “that’s what I like about you.”

\---

“I’m in.”

Kurt’s head pops above the showcase like a fox coming out of its burrow. “Huh?”

Adam crosses his arms over the showcase to look at Kurt. “For the pastries translation - I’m in.”

“You’re sure about that?” Kurt asks as he stands up, his arms wrapped around his torso and his eyes uncertain.

“There is only one thing I’m more sure of than that,” Adam replies confidently, and Kurt claps his hands, a beaming smile on his face.

“Oh, Adam, it’s going to be great - we just need to find the recipes we’re going to play with!” he exclaims before calming down and cocking his head to the side as he takes his friend in. “What’s the ultimate thing you’re sure of, then?”

Adam turns red in a flash, and it’s actually adorable to see, but Kurt is not about to make fun of him right this instant. “I’m going to propose to Sebastian,” he finally says softly, barely above a whisper and Kurt pulls him into a hug. To congratulate him, of course, but also to hide his face: he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to hide the fact that Sebastian might make a move before Adam on this particular matter.

\---

Once again, Kurt has called his gang around him for moral support. They have made decisions on “their” pastries, and they want everybody’s opinion on them before making them public.

Kurt’s choice was not difficult. At all. It came from Elizabeth’s cookbook, after all. Kurt went for the most stained page of the book, the most used one - he truly wants to infuse the memory of his mom, of her love, of her talent taken from him too soon in his adventure.

He carefully turns the tray so that the meringue’s peak is facing the seated assembly.

“Ahem,” he calls over the noise and everybody turns to face him, eyes drawn to the fluffy spirale. “What does that bring to mind?” he asks them.

“Except ‘yum, get in me’?” Dani asks back and, as Kurt nods with a giggle, she observes the little cake in detail. “I would go for a meringue pie, probably lemon?” she ventures and Kurt sends her a kiss.

“Exactly,” he replies, fighting the emotional tears that threaten to cloud his vision. “It was my mother’s favorite dessert,” he explains, nodding towards Burt seated in a corner, “and she would make it every year for the anniversary of her meeting my Dad.”

“Thank God she got better at it,” Burt pinches in, making everybody smile and laugh, “her first pie was a legitimate disaster.”

“Thank God indeed,” Kurt says, pulling a pie from the showcase, “because that pie is the perfect balance between sweet and sour, the shock of the lemon and the comfort of the meringue and-”

“Kurt,” Adam cuts him, “maybe we should let them try it before starting waxing poems about it?”

Kurt blushes brightly and motions for them all to try the cupcakes. Some of them simply peel the paper and bite in it, smearing meringue on the tip of their noses and not caring in the slightest, while others take a spoon to delicately attack the construction of it all, keeping the spoon in their mouth for just a bit longer than necessary.

Kurt’s eyes dart between all of them, but they return more often to Burt and Blaine, seated side by side on the bench and so similar in their way to eat that it amazes him. His father and his husband, the two most important men in his life, the two whose opinion is the most decisive.

Taking a slice of pie for himself, Kurt walks towards them, filing his friends’ compliments for future use.

“So?” he simply asks as he reaches them and Burt smiles a very meringuey smile for him.

“It feels like your mom directed your hand, kid,” Burt says before reaching for a napkin wipe his lips clean.

“Dad that’s … that’s the best compliment you could give me,” Kurt says, throat closing up around a big ball of emotions.

Sebastian lets out a truly pornographic moan as he reaches the heart of lemon curd, and Adam kisses him to keep him quiet. It might not have been Kurt’s intent, but at least now he has a better hold on his emotions. He swallows sharply before turning to Adam. “Your turn, partner,” he calls and all eyes turn to the tall blonde man.

“My story is not as deeply connected as Kurt’s,” Adam starts, pulling two large plates out of the showcase. “I simply picked my favorite cake and turned it into a cupcake because it was fun to do so.”

“And what’s your favorite cake?” Santana calls, patting Matteo’s back as the toddler rests against her chest, “A Jaffa cake?”

Adam rolls his eyes and flicks a balled napkin at her head. “Blasphemy,” he scoffs, “and besides, it would be just a little complicated to turn a Jaffa cake into a cupcake. No, my cake is from the other side of the Channel.”

“Ooh, French pastry,” Elliott says, clapping his hands enthusiastically.

Now the group’s attention is sharper on the cakes Adam pulled out.

“An Opéra,” Adam calls, showing the actual cake on his right, “a multi-layered cake with chocolate ganache and coffee buttercream and Joconde biscuits.”

“Oh my God,” Dani and Rachel whisper in awe and in perfect synchronization before giggling at each other.

“If I didn’t make any mistake,” Adam continues, pointing at the cupcakes, “you should find those tastes and textures in these little babies.”

He doesn’t have the time to finish his sentence that the flock of locusts has already descended on both plates, leaving him only a little piece of cake. “Okay then.”

Kurt stands up, brushing his fingers against Blaine’s cheek as he walks towards Adam who stays far away from their friends. As sounds of munching and pleasure fill the store, the two men look over the group and exchange a look of complicity.

If careful cooking really is love, if it really is about passion and giving parts of your soul to the ones you love and feed, then, well …

Kurt never thought he could love so much.  

**_Cooking for people is an enormously significant expression of generosity and soulfulness, and entertaining is a way to be both generous and creative. You're sharing your life with people._ **

**Ted Allen**

*****

Kurt’s Lemon meringue pie - cupcakes

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/2583725709>

**For 20 cupcakes**

220 g of flour

8 g  of baking powder

220 g of softened butter

4 eggs

180 g of caster sugar

Lemon (juice and zest)

**For the lemon curd**

4 egg yolks

125 g of caster sugar

60 g of butter

The juice of 2 lemons

The zest of one lemon

**For the icing, Italian meringue style**

2 egg whites

A pinch of salt

125 g of caster sugar

24 g of water (I kid you not)

  
Let’s start with the lemon curd.

Whip the yolks, the sugar, the zest and the lemon juice in a bowl, that you put over a water-bath.

Add the butter cut in small squares and whip energetically to keep the eggs from coagulating. It should take around 10 minutes to obtain a creamy consistency (way to work those muscles). But beware : the lemon curd will thicken as it cools, so it shouldn’t be too firm. Once you feel like you have the right consistency (and you will know), take the bowl out of the heat and let it cold in the open.

Meanwhile, let’s work on the cupcakes. (~Aye aye, Cap’n~)

Preheat the oven at 356°F.

In a bowl, mix the flour, the sugar and the baking powder. Then, add the eggs ONE BY ONE, and finally, the butter.

Mix slowly for 9-10 minutes; then you can add the lemon juice and zest, and mix more vigorously.

Prepare your paper cases in your mold.

Fill them to the 2/3rd, add one teaspoon of lemon curd, and put in the oven for 15 minutes.

And now, the big finale : the Italian meringue (because what decent lemon pie would be complete without its meringue, amiright?)

Beat the egg whites with a pinch of salt until it’s completely firm, then add one tablespoon of caster sugar.

Pour the rest of the sugar with the water in a pan and let it cook to the “boulé”, which means a thick texture, allowing you to roll the sugar into a little ball (or “boule” in French) between two fingers.

Add the boulé to the beaten egg whites without ever stopping mixing, until it’s fully incorporated and cooler.

Put the meringue into a piping bag and cover the cupcakes’ top.

Arsonists, you’ll be happy, this is your time to shine.

Take your blowtorch and lightly - LIGHTLY - golden the meringue.

Be careful with the the paper cases, keep the flame away from them (burned paper doesn’t taste good, take my word for it).

Let them cool down and enjoy !

 

           

Adam’s Opéra - cupcakes

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/4318307945>

**For 18 cupcakes**

160 g of sifted flour

60 g of almonds powder

220 g of softened butter

180 g caster sugar

4 eggs

9 g of baking powder

2 teaspoons of coffee extract

18 squares of dark chocolate

**For the icing**

250 g of icing sugar

150 g of softened butter

2 teaspoons of cocoa powder

1 teaspoon of coffee extract

Glitters or gold foil if you’re feeling it

 

Pre-heat your oven at 356° F.

In the blender bowl mix together the flour, the almonds powder, the sugar and baking powder, then add the eggs and the butter pomade cut in small slices.  Mix together for 5 mniutes with your blender at an average mode then add the coffee extract and let the blender mix it wit the dough.

Fill the cases up to the 2/3rd and add a square of chocolate in each cupcakes, bake for 15 minutes.

Now the icing.

Stir the butter until it’s soft.

Mix together the icing sugar and the butter. Separate the preparation in two.

In the first half, add the cocoa powder and stir thoroughly.

In the other add the coffee extract.

Put the chocolate preparation on the right of your pastry bag and the coffee preparation on the left of your pastry bag to create a bicolor icing!  

Draw a pattern with your piping bag on top of your cupcakes and spread some glitters on top!

 

Elisabeth’s Biscottis

<http://gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com/post/892530719>

400 g of sifted flour

200 g of caster sugar + 2 teaspoon

200 g of almonds (whole)

2 eggs whites and 2 yolks

half a sachet of baking powder

1 coffee spoon of vanilla extract ( or a few drops of bitter almonds extract)

 

This recipe cannot be easier.

Pre-heat your oven at 356° F

Mix together the almonds, the flour, the sugar, the baking powder and the vanilla then add the eggs. Stir with your hands (time to get diiiirty), you’ll get a sticky dough.

Leave aside the dough during 20 minutes in your fridge. Then shape your dough into two separate rolls and put it in your oven for 20 minutes.

Take the tray out of the oven once it’s baked and bevel cut the breads ( the slices need to be 2 cm thick).

Put  all the slices flat on a tray and put it back in the oven until the crust is golden-brown.

Let it cool and it’s done!

Buono appetito !

  
And remember, a treat shared tastes always better !

  
THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end my friends  
> I hope you enjoyed the story, I also hope that you'll try the recipes  
> Really, let the wonderful cook what you think of her recipes over gourmandise-and-co.tumblr.com !!!!
> 
> And when I say the end, well ... It ain't over until it's over, right ?


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